


Save The Last Dance For Me

by half_rice



Series: Can I Have This Dance [3]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fluff without Plot, Hyunjin has an ex who is just Bomin in drag accEPT IT, Lil bit excessive drinking, M/M, OMG Arin and NCT Haechan are here for no reason, Smoking, mentions of cancer research, the ensemble appear for like 0.5 seconds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28448814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/half_rice/pseuds/half_rice
Summary: Seungmin has always loved Hyunjin,Hyunjin has always loved Seungmin,Jisung still loves Minho,Minho still loves Jisung,...SO WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS(Summary by Lee Felix)
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin, Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin, Kim Seungmin/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Series: Can I Have This Dance [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1422808
Comments: 120
Kudos: 225





	1. What can I do?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imsokyoriosyeh (jesperwrites_norights)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesperwrites_norights/gifts).



> I know everyone’s wondering what happened to Seungmin, Hyunjin, Minho, and Jisung after the events of the last fic… 
> 
> So have I and I wondered kind of a LOT, so much so that it became a whole min-iseries (get it?? Because it features SeungMIN and MINho??? I’ll be here all night, folx) set right after the ending of _I Don’t Feel Like Dancing_. 
> 
> This may technically be a skz baseball au, but there’s absolutely no baseball in this entire fic and hardly any plot. Enjoy! ❤

_Felix’s Birthday_

_Oh no,_ Seungmin thinks, turning his camera over in his hands. _Did it get wet? This isn’t waterproof-_

“What’s wrong?” Hyunjin asks, peeking over Seungmin’s shoulder at the camera.

Seungmin shakes his head quickly. “Nothing.”

“Okay.” Hyunjin hums, clearly unconvinced.

“Really, nothing.” Seungmin insists.

“I said _okay_ ,” Hyunjin laughs, giving the bill of Seungmin’s cap a gentle flick. “Where do you wanna go now?”

Seungmin lets go of his camera, letting it dangle from his neck by the strap. “I think we’ve already gone on every ride.”

“Have we?” Hyunjin shrugs. “I didn’t notice.”

_Of course you didn’t,_ Seungmin sighs.

Then he frowns at himself. _Where did that come from?_

A garishly ornate streetlamp blinks on next to them, bathing them in orange light that makes Hyunjin look a little bit like a puffed cheese ball. Seungmin smiles as he checks his watch. He hadn’t realized they’d been in the amusement park for that long, but it’s past the time he usually has dinner. _No wonder I’m being so mean to Hyunjin._

“Oh, the others said to meet up at the gate in fifteen minutes,” Hyunjin says, turning his phone to Seungmin. “We’re all going out to dinner at some place near Changbin’s house.”

“Okay.”

“What do you want to do until then?”

Seungmin shrugs. “I don’t know. Anything.”

They stand there on the curb of a fake sidewalk in a fake street for altogether too long, while tired families shuffle past them on their way out of the park.

Hyunjin laughs. “We’re not going to do anything, are we?”

Seungmin smiles. “No, I don’t think so.”

“So, are you guys going to stay one more night or…?” Changbin asks slowly.

The other boys seem too busy trying to pack away as much fried chicken as they can into their stomachs before the disgruntled restaurant owner kicks them out.

Seungmin catches his gaze.

_Please, please, have mercy,_ Changbin’s eyes seem to be saying while he takes a modest bite of his chicken.

Hyunjin and Jisung are also looking at Seungmin as they crunch through their dinner.

Seungmin gives Changbin a less-than-kind smile, watching the way Changbin’s mouth curls into a pout. He doesn’t know why he does it, but the fleeting moment of satisfaction passes.

“We have to go, sorry,” Seungmin says, letting his apologetic smile meet his eyes in an eye scrunch. “Hyunjin and I have training tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Changbin says, clearly relieved.

“We’ve got to go, too.” Chan says, looking up at Younghoon with wide eyes. “Right?”

“Yeah, my aunt said we’ve got to return Jeongin by tonight or we’re dead.” Younghoon laughs.

“I’m eighteen fucking years old and she still thinks I’m a fucking- _HEY_! Hyung that’s not faaaair!”” Jeongin whines when Younghoon snatches a chicken wing clean off his plate.

Younghoon only grins with the chicken wing clamped between his teeth.

“Yeah, we’re taking the train in like, forty-five minutes,” Yeji says. “We only asked permission for one night.”

“Like fools.” Ryujin says, shaking her head.

“Well, it’s almost summer, you guys could come visit again soon,” Felix says, passing a basket of chicken to Chaeryeong, who gives him a deep bow before taking three drumsticks for herself.

“Maybe not all at the same time,” Changbin adds, handing another basket of chicken down the table to Sunwoo and Youngjae, who are bouncing around in their seats in anticipation. Changbin’s brow furrows when Jisung kneels up on his seat to order some more rice with all the boldness of someone capable of paying the bill (which he isn’t).

Seungmin sighs and starts dismantling a chicken wing on his plate. He doesn’t know why, but he seems to have left his appetite back home. _In the dorm, I mean. That’s not home._

“We can come back sometime during summer break, right?” Hyunjin asks Seungmin.

Seungmin just stares at him. _You mean you_ want _to spend another awkward night at your ex-boyfriend’s apartment?_

“You’ll be back in two weeks anyway.” Minho mutters as he stacks the empty plates and baskets at the side of the table.

“Huh?” Hyunjin’s face contorts in utter confusion. “We will? Why?”

“No,” Minho breaks into a grin. “No, not _you_.”

“It’s just me.” Seungmin mumbles, hoping it’s low enough that the others don’t hear it above the noise of Hyunjoon and Jisung fighting over a chicken wing.

Hyunjin hears it, of course. He turns to Seungmin with his eyebrows furrowed. “What are you going to Seoul for?”

“It’s for an internship.” Seungmin mutters. “It’s not really-”

“Don’t be modest, Seungmin, it’s not cute on you,” Minho laughs. He gives Hyunjin a broad wink. “Seungmin and two other sad fucks beat out like five thousand other applicants for an internship at the National Cancer Research Institute I work at.”

Hyunjin’s frown deepens.

“You’re working _where_?” Jisung asks, and in the second he’s distracted, Hyunjoon snatches the last chicken wing clean from his hands.

Minho makes a face. “Honestly, Jisung, did you think I’d be waiting tables forever?”

“No, no, I was just gonna say that’s, uh… really se- That’s very cool, Minho.” Jisung says, nodding slowly as he raises two shaky thumbs up. “Very cool.”

“Thanks.” Minho says flatly before turning back to Seungmin with a curious smile. “You didn’t tell Hyunjin? There’s kind of a thin line between humility and-”

“I was going to.” Seungmin says. He gives Hyunjin a quick apologetic look. “It’s not as big a deal as Minho makes it sound.”

“Congrats anyway.” Hyunjin’s started pressing the tines of his fork against the side of his plate like he’s trying to bend them. “How long is the internship?”

“Two months.”

Hyunjin drops his fork. “The _entire_ summer?”

“Not really.” Seungmin shrugs. “But pretty much.”

“Oh.”

Seungmin takes a sip of water, turning to the window to try to avoid seeing Hyunjin’s ridiculously dejected, droopy shoulders. He knows it’s just Hyunjin being dramatic as usual, but he doesn’t like seeing it just the same.

“Hey, my friends, my dudes, my countrymen,” Jisung says, popping up between Seungmin and Hyunjin and draping his greasy arms over their shoulders. “We should probably get going soon if you guys have something tomorrow morning.”

Seungmin exchanges a glance with Hyunjin, who’s still frowning at him.

“You’re not part of the training?” Minho asks, raising his eyebrows at Jisung.

“I don’t play baseball anymore,” Jisung snorts. “Like, not since high school.”

“That’s too bad.” Minho shrugs.

Jisung makes a face. “Why?”

“You’re really good at it.” Minho says quickly, before turning to tease Chan about the massive mound of chicken bones on his plate.

“Stop that.” Minho says.

“Stop what?” Seungmin asks.

“Stop holding onto the door handle like you’re about to fucking jump,” Minho says, teeth gritted as he turns the steering wheel of the car that he would never admit he doesn’t know how to drive. “I’m not _that_ bad.”

“Hyunjin’s brother is still worse.” Jisung pipes up from the back seat.

“Hey.” Hyunjin pouts. “He’s just a little fast.”

“Fast is okay. Fast is not my issue. Driving in straight lines is your brother’s problem.” Jisung says, using one hand to draw a line in the air. “Like, I get the guy’s not straight, but can he at least follow-”

“Okay, can everyone shut up? I can’t hear myself think.” Minho grumbles, flicking the turn signal in the middle of a sharp left turn.

“What’s there to _think_ about?” Seungmin frowns at him, gripping the door handle as the tires screech under them.

“Seungmin, just shut up, I want to get to the station in one fucking piece!” Jisung squeaks.

“You’re the one Minho was asking to shut up.” Hyunjin mutters.

“Yes! Thank you, Hyunjin!” Minho says, hitting the brakes just a little too late. The car skids to a worryingly noisy halt at the curb outside the train station. “Oh thank god. We’re here.”

The four of them all seem to deflate in their seats from relief.

Jisung leans in the space between Minho and Seungmin’s seats. “I would say thanks for the ride, but-”

“You’re welcome.” Minho snaps at him before he can finish his sentence.

“Thanks for the ride, Minho.” Hyunjin says. “You’re much better at driving than my hyung.”

“That’s a _low_ bar.” Jisung insists. “It’s practically in hell.”

“Let the boy be sweet if he wants to.” Minho gives Hyunjin a warm smile as he jerks the lever to open the trunk. His smile quickly curls into a scowl. “Oh, fuck this thing.”

“Do you need any help?” Seungmin asks, still keeping a wary distance from Minho.

“No, I- Fuck this motherfucking-” Minho tugs on the lever again, but it doesn’t seem to be one of the car’s many moving parts. He raises a hand to silence Jisung, who’d already opened his mouth to say something. “Don’t. I already told him to get this fixed, but did he listen? No, because he’s a cunt.”

Jisung frowns, mouth still hanging open. “Who?”

“Oh.” Minho’s face seems to go through ten different expressions too quickly for anyone to pick out each one. “My boyfriend.”

Jisung’s face changes to one expression that anyone would’ve been able to guess even in pitch darkness. “Oh.”

Seungmin clears his throat uneasily. “We should get going. The train won’t wait for us.”

“Yeah, I’ll just bust the trunk open so you can get your stuff.” Minho steps out of the car. He starts yanking the trunk handle, pretending not to notice the figure standing just out of his line of sight, fidgeting with the edge of his hoodie like he wants to say something.

Minho leans his whole body into yanking the handle, finally getting the trunk of the sedan to creak open. He passes Hyunjin and Seungmin their duffel bags, and he’s just lifted Jisung’s backpack out of the slightly damp-smelling interior when Jisung is unable to hold back any longer.

“You must be pretty serious if you’re sharing a car.” Jisung says, taking his backpack quickly and all but hiding behind it. “With your boyfriend, I mean.”

“We’re in college, Jisung, how serious can we be?” Minho mutters, tiptoeing to slam the trunk shut again. He knows his face and ears are burning, but he’s hoping the dim sodium light above them doesn’t show it.

“I was gonna congratulate you, but like, sure, go ahead, ruin it.” Jisung lets out a dry chuckle.

Minho frowns at Jisung. There’s something weird about Jisung, and Minho just can’t put his finger on what the fuck it is.

“I _am_ happy for you, though. For real.”

Jisung’s smile is so genuine that it makes the tips of Minho’s fingers tingle.

_He’s being mature,_ Minho realizes, gripping the keys in his pocket to get the circulation back in his hands. _That’s what’s weird._

_Well, wouldn’t it be fucking_ sad _if he weren’t more mature after three years?_

“Is that our train?” Seungmin asks, his soft voice carried over by the wind.

“What?” Hyunjin’s voice a little less pleasant as the wind drags it over to Minho’s ears.

“That one.” Seungmin points. “I think it is.”

“Jisung, our train’s here!” Hyunjin squawks, pointing at the train currently rolling into the station. He and Seungmin promptly start running towards the front steps of the station, never turning back to check if Jisung’s following.

“Oh shit,” Jisung laughs. He turns back to Minho with another bright smile. “Well, uh, anyway… Bye, Minho.”

“Bye.” Minho says. He doesn’t know what else to say. _I guess_ I’m _not mature enough._

“Nice catching up with you again,” Jisung adds, hiking the strap of his backpack higher on his shoulder, as though preparing to sprint after a high-speed train. “We should hang out again sometime. I mean, you know, with the other guys too.”

_Oh. Right. I should be saying something like_ that _._

“Yeah.” Is all Minho manages to say. He stands there as if frozen numb, watching Jisung run towards the train station like a horde of zombies is after him.

A buzz from Minho’s back pocket snaps him back to reality.

> _1 new message from YH_
> 
> _YH:_ Hey babe are you still alive? 😂

Minho rolls his eyes as he climbs back into the car, typing out a reply.

> _MH:_ No I blew the car up. Otw home 😘

Hyunjin manages to hold it in the entire train ride, the entire taxi ride, the entire four hours and then some on the way back to the athlete’s dorm. He even smiles while the dorm manager tells him and Seungmin off for coming back so late, and laughs when one of their upperclassmen stops them in the hallway to warn them not to use the microwave.

Hyunjin manages to keep a straight face right until the door to their dorm room closes. Then he makes the mistake of turning around to look at Seungmin.

His bottom lip wobbles. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Seungmin stares at him so blankly that it’s making Hyunjin’s eyes sting even more.

“That-” Hyunjin swallows, feeling his throat seize up. _Don’t cry, don’t cry, you’re going to look like_ such _a loser, don’t cry-_ “That you’re going away.”

“It’s just for two months.” Seungmin yawns. “I’ll be back for training- Hyunjin, are you _crying_?”

Hyunjin rubs the sleeve of his sweater roughly over his eyes. “No.”

“Hyunjin,” Seungmin sighs, his shoulders sagging. “Please don’t-”

“I’m not crying on purpose!” Hyunjin sniffles, slipping the neckline of his sweater over his head to cover his face. “It just came out! Don’t mind me!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t think you would be this upset.”

“I’m not upset! I’m just- I don’t know!” Hyunjin shakes his head. He can’t see Seungmin through his sweater, but he can imagine what Seungmin looks like right now. Slightly uncomfortable, with a little frown that’s nowhere near Hyunjin’s current level of hysterics. It’s been a long time since Hyunjin remembers seeing Seungmin cry at all. _But he sees me cry like, every other week._

Hyunjin feels a hand on his shoulder. It’s Seungmin’s of course, because no one else has a touch that light, like he doesn’t want to touch you at all and he’s just being forced to.

“You were still dating Bomi when I applied for the internship.” Seungmin says, as plainly as if he were reporting the evening news. “I thought you two would’ve wanted more time to yourselves this summer.”

“Why does nobody-” Hyunjin takes deep breaths, letting the tears stream down the sides of his face. He’s beyond being embarrassed. “Why does nobody understand that I can date other people _and_ be your friend at the same time?”

Seungmin doesn’t reply, but a low creak lets Hyunjin know he’s opened the closet. Hyunjin pops his head out of the neck hole of his sweater again. He looks at Seungmin, who’s started pulling out a set of pajamas and his toiletries basket.

Seungmin cocks a head to their bathroom door. “Do you want to take a shower first, or will I?”

Hyunjin dries his face on his damp sweater sleeve. “You can go ahead.”

“Thanks.” Seungmin opens the bathroom door and switches on the light, but he hesitates and turns to Hyunjin. “Think about it this way: With me gone, you won’t have to wait your turn for the bathroom.”

Hyunjin manages to wait until the door shut behind Seungmin before bursting into tears again.

Seungmin hears a rustle from across the room. He squints across the arm’s length of space between his bed and Hyunjin’s. The faint light from the streetlamp outside their dorm outlines Hyunjin’s figure, his chest rising and falling too quickly for him to be asleep.

“I’m sorry for being so… weird about your internship a while ago.” Hyunjin mumbles.

“It’s okay. You were surprised. That’s my fault.”

“I’m really happy for you, Seungmin. Honest.”

“Thanks, Hyunjin.”

“Were there really five thousand other applicants?”

“I don’t know, Minho was probably exaggerating.”

“Still, it’s still something. You’re so… _smart_ ,” Hyunjin lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “And anyway, I’ll be fine on my own. No one’s going to stop me from having one milk tea a day-”

“Your wallet will.”

“Right.”

Seungmin can’t see it, with the lights off and his glasses perched on the bedside table between them, but he knows Hyunjin is smiling. He smiles, too. He can’t help it. “You can always go home to your brother this summer. Training doesn’t start up again for two months, anyway.”

“No, I have that Math class to retake this summer.”

“Oh. Right.” Seungmin nods.

“I haven’t told hyung about it yet.” Hyunjin says quietly. “I haven’t told anyone, actually. Except you.”

“I don’t think he’ll be mad.”

“He’s a Math teacher, Seungmin.”

“You’re not.”

Seungmin listens to Hyunjin’s breathing, always a little damp-sounding and just the slight bit whiny. Seungmin finds himself slowing his own breathing to match it.

“Also, I was thinking…” Hyunjin says, his voice drawling like he’s about to fall asleep mid-sentence on Seungmin. It wouldn’t be the first time. “While I was in the bathroom-”

“-Taking a massive shit?” Seungmin suggests.

Hyunjin laughs, which only makes Seungmin’s smile grow wider.

“Yes, while I was taking a _massive shit_ ,” Hyunjin giggles. “Sorry, was it that bad?”

“I fumigated the room with Febreze, don’t worry.” Seungmin grins.

“So _that’s_ what I’m smelling.” Hyunjin says with a little sniff. “It’s a bit much.”

“Better than your shit.” Seungmin says, waving his hands in the air to disperse the scent just a little bit.

“Sorry.” Hyunjin laughs again.

“No, I’m sorry,” Seungmin says, just imagining the light flush on Hyunjin’s cheeks from laughing so hard. _His nose is probably still pink from crying, too._ “What were you saying, before we got sidetracked?”

Seungmin listens. A lone motorcycle passes by on the street below their window, probably delivering a late-night/early-morning snack to someone else in the dorm. Something falls over in the next room, which belongs to two guys on the swim team. Someone’s music, probably from another floor, is muffled to the point of being nothing but a few deep beats. Under all that, Hyunjin’s breathing has quieted down to a gentle snore.

“Good night, Hyunjin.” Seungmin says. “I’m sorry again for not telling you about the internship.”

Hyunjin mumbles something back that Seungmin doesn’t understand. Seungmin doesn’t bother. Hyunjin says all sorts of things when he’s asleep.

Seungmin turns to face the wall, pulling the covers up to his chin.

“I love you.”


	2. Do you even have feelings for me?

_Two weeks later_

“Are you sure this is going to be enough clothes?” Hyunjin asks, frowning as he hefts Seungmin’s luggage into the trunk of the taxi. “I could have lent you some clothes-”

“There are washing machines in Seoul, Hyunjin.”

“I know _that_!” Hyunjin blushes furiously. “I just don’t want them to think you’re a… you know… _Country boy_.”

Seungmin laughs. “I _am_ a country boy, aren’t I?”

“We’re both country boys.” Hyunjin says defensively. He pulls one of the back doors of the taxi open. “Come on, you’re going to miss your train, Country Boy.”

“You don’t have to come with me to the station, Country Boy #2.” Seungmin says, but he knows it’s pointless. He climbs into the back bench next to Hyunjin. “But thanks for carrying my stuff.”

“No prob.” Hyunjin grins at him. He lowers his voice to a whisper as the taxi starts down the street, “But you’ll have to pay for the taxi, hyung’s cut my allowance.”

Seungmin frowns. “Because you failed your Math class?”

“No,” Hyunjin shakes his head. “Mark-hyung’s taught him how to make an online account, so he saw how much I spent on milk tea, and uh… yeah.”

Seungmin laughs. “Milk tea probably flows through your veins at this point.”

Hyunjin closes his hands protectively over his long neck. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Seungmin scoffs, turning to the window to try not to laugh at that. He doesn’t have much success.

The classic rock from the taxi’s radio washes over whatever conversation they could’ve had, filling the space until the taxi rolls to a stop outside the train station.

Hyunjin hops out of the taxi to get Seungmin’s suitcase from the trunk. “If I have any problems with Math, I’ll call you.”

“You’ll call me either way.” Seungmin says, taking the suitcase from him. “Won’t you?”

“Of course.”

Seungmin lowers his suitcase to the curb. He gives Hyunjin a smile. “I’ll be going now. See you.”

“Take care,” Hyunjin says.

“You too,” Seungmin says. “Country boy.”

“You’re more of a country boy than I am!” Hyunjin protests as Seungmin starts towards the station. “You wear too much plaid!” Hyunjin yells after him. “That hasn’t been in style since _2010_!”

Seungmin notices his reflection in one of the windows of the station. Sure enough, he’s wearing a dark green plaid shirt.

He laughs.

“Minho, can I borrow-”

“No.” Minho says, never once taking his eyes away from the plastic tubes he’s marking on his workbench.

“Minho, do you have any-”

“No.” Minho scans over the plastic rack of tubes, frowning as he calculates how many he actually needs.

“Minho, can you tour the interns-”

“No.”

A loud cough cuts into the music blasting from Minho’s airpods. He looks up with wide eyes to find the head of the research institute standing next to his bench, frowning at him.

“S- So sorry, sir,” Minho manages to stutter out, dipping into a self-conscious bow. He pulls his mouth into a tight smile. “I’d love to.”

“Great, I think they should be wrapping up with their orientation in Room 108.” The institute director says. “Just show them around, don’t let them touch anything. Like they did with your batch.”

Minho nods enthusiastically. “Yes, sir. I remember. Sir.”

He sinks back into his seat, shoulders deflating with relief as soon as the director leaves.

One of the other undergrads, who had been minding her own business at her bench, snorts. “ _Yes, sir. Anything you want, sir._ ” She says, in a bad approximation of Minho’s voice. “ _Please pat me on the head, sir-”_

“Shut up, Yaebin,” Minho grumbles. “You know he only asked me to do it because he doesn’t know your fucking name.”

“I hope he never learns, then.” Yaebin grins, snapping a pair of latex gloves on.

Minho sighs and replaces the cap of his marker before placing it in a drawer marked, _LEE MINHO’S STUFF. TOUCH THEM AND DIE._

Minho pulls out his phone, swiping notifications away as he trudges down the stairs to the first floor. He stops on one notification.

> _1 new message from YH_
> 
> _YH:_ Hey babe are you free for lunch?
> 
> _MH:_ Not sure yet, why?
> 
> _YH:_ I’m horny as hell
> 
> _MH:_ And that’s my fault?
> 
> _YH:_ Isn’t it always?
> 
> _YH:_ I’ll come pick you up in 15
> 
> _MH:_ I can’t I’m busy
> 
> _YH:_ Aren’t you always?
> 
> _YH:_ We don’t have to go anywhere we can just do it in the parking lot

Minho pockets his phone, taking a deep breath to keep his expression neutral as he looks over the three interns. His first thought is that he wishes Seungmin had worn something other than an ill-fitting plaid button-down, but then he decides he doesn’t give enough of a shit to say anything. He’s pleasantly surprised that there’s a girl this year – there hadn’t been any in the past five years. She fixes him with a bored expression, which makes him smile.

“Hi guys, I’m Lee Minho, I’m an incoming junior, I’m working on the lung cancer project, and I’m going to be showing you around the different labs we have in the institute,” Minho mutters, running through the script he’s committed to memory. “Before we go, could I get your names?”

“Hwang Arin.” The girl says haughtily. “S_____ University.”

“Lee Donghyuck,” The other boy extends a hand to Minho, which he shakes gingerly. “I’m also from S_____ University.”

“So am I. It’s not a big deal around here.” Minho says. He turns to Seungmin with a smile. “What about you?”

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “You know who I am.”

“No,” Minho says with an innocent shake of his head. “I know that you’re a new intern-”

Seungmin takes a deep breath. “Hi. I’m Kim Seungmin.”

“What university?”

“Busan National.” Seungmin says. “We’ve been sitting around all morning, Minho, can you cut the bullshit and start walking?”

Donghyuck and Arin stifle snorts.

“Nice to know you’re a little bitch as ever, Seungmin.” Minho grins, pushing the door to the stairwell open. “Seungmin and I went to the same high school.”

“Oh, which one?” Arin asks.

“S_____ High.” Minho says, watching the girl’s expression shift in her reflection in the window.

“It’s in ______.” Seungmin adds.

“Oh.” Arin says, in a detached way that lets them know she has no idea where that is.

“Hey, I’m from the next city.” Donghyuck grins. “I went to NC Tech. You guys were on the baseball team, weren’t you?”

Minho and Seungmin exchange raised eyebrows.

“Yeah.” Minho says, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. “We were.”

“I guess I’m outnumbered in more ways than one,” Arin mutters.

Minho’s about to say something scathing when he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He hurries a couple steps ahead of the interns before checking his phone.

> _YH_ : I’m outside
> 
> _MH:_ Wait I’m touring interns rn
> 
> _YH:_ Again? Does no one else in that goddamned building know how to give a tour? Or do you always volunteer?

Minho feels someone looking over his shoulder, so he kills the screen and pockets his phone. He turns to find Seungmin staring at him innocently.

“I think the door needs an ID card or something.” Seungmin says, pointing at the door to the lab.

Minho unclips the ID dangling around his neck and hands it to Seungmin. He feels his phone buzz in his pocket again. “Just tap it against that white box. The door will beep when it’s open.”

Seungmin nods. “Okay.”

“You guys will get your own ID cards on…” Minho trails off as he checks his phone again.

> _YH:_ If you don’t want to see me, you can just say so

Minho closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to stop himself from typing the first thing that comes to his mind, which is something along the lines of, _Shut up and suck your own dick_ , _I’m tired of volunteering to do_ that _._

“Minho.”

Minho slips his phone back into his pocket, trying to give Seungmin a blank smile. “Yeah?”

Seungmin’s been holding the door open for some time now, so it seems. “I don’t think we should be leaving this door open for too long.”

“Yeah.” Minho nods. He holds down on the power button of his phone until he feels it shut off. “Sorry about that, my uh, groupmate is pestering me about a paper.”

Donghyuck frowns. “Aren’t we on summer break?”

“Um.” Minho clears his throat. “Anyway, uh, here’s where we sequence genomes and uh, shit. Stuff. I mean stuff. There’s lots of expensive shit- I mean, _equipment_ here, so keep your hands to your sides at all times, thank you. Don’t touch anything or I will kill you and then promptly die myself, thanks.”

“Everything okay, Minho?” Seungmin asks quietly, when the other two interns lag a couple of steps behind to look at the equipment around them.

“Yeah.” Minho says, casting an uneasy glance out the nearest window. He can’t see the parking lot from here, but he just knows his boyfriend’s parked there somewhere, fuming. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Excuse me, Mr. Whatever-Your-Name-Is,” Arin says, waving a hand to get Minho’s attention. “Is that machine supposed to be beeping like that?”

Minho and Seungmin turn to find Arin pointing at a small blue box screeching for all its worth, with its display lit up with lots of angry, red lights.

“Great observation, Arin,” Minho says, giving the intern a detached smile. “No. It should not.”

Hyunjin tries to walk into the Math building as casually as he can. A couple people look at him, and their expressions seem to say, _Isn’t that the younger brother of a Math teacher? Who couldn’t even pass the easiest algebra class in the university? And has to take it again this summer?_

Hyunjin shakes his head like he’s trying to get rid of water in his ear. He pulls his mouth into a tense smile. _Nobody’s thinking that. These people don’t even know me. How could they know my brother’s a math teacher and I’m a complete idiot?_

“HWANG HYUNJIN! MY DUDE!”

Hyunjin stops dead in his tracks. The handful of people in the lobby of the Math building turn to him with their eyebrows raised.

“H- Hi.” Hyunjin manages a weak wave. “Hey.”

Jisung saunters over – that’s the word for it, Hyunjin decides, _saunters_. He flings an arm around Hyunjin’s shoulders. “Whatcha doing here?”

_What do you think???_

“Uh…” Hyunjin feels his ears burning. “I’m taking Math 101.”

“Oh, you haven’t taken it yet?” Jisung asks. “Isn’t that like, Basic Algebra?”

_His voice is too loud. He needs to tone it down. Or shut up altogether._

“N- No, I have.” Hyunjin says quietly. He feels like he’s stabbing himself with scissors when he adds, “I’m taking it again.”

“Oh. Shit.” Jisung grimaces. “Shiiiit. I see.”

“What are you taking again?”

“Oh, me? Hell no, I’m taking Calc 3 in advance so I get it over with.” Jisung scoffs. “No offense, dude, but do I _look_ like I’d retake a- Oh, that was kind of offensive, wasn’t it? Sorry. Didn’t mean it, dude. Life’s hard. I get it. And you’ve got all that training for baseball and stuff and…”

Hyunjin notices someone enter the lobby out of the corner of his eye. _Oh no._ _I have to run. I have to get out of here. But Jisung’s still talking to me. Jisung won’t shut up! I can’t-_

“Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin sighs as a couple more people look his way. He might as well have walked into the building with a giant nametag plastered to his chest.

“Hi Bomi.” Hyunjin grimaces.

Bomi lowers her phone, her eyebrows caught in a tense frown for a moment. Then she breaks into an unkind smile. “Oh, I see. Makes sense.”

“What?” Hyunjin frowns.

Jisung turns a little way to face Hyunjin and mouth, ‘Who is this?’

“We both skipped _so many_ classes last semester…” Bomi says, pausing as if to let Hyunjin’s memory fill in the rest of the blanks against his will. “It feels kinda nice to know that you failed your classes, too.”

“Just the one.” Hyunjin says tensely, trying to ignore Jisung waving his hands behind Bomi to get Hyunjin’s attention. “And it’s not your fault.”

“That’s sweet of you, but-” Bomi’s phone begins chirping, cutting her off before she can finish that thought. She frowns down at it for a moment before looking up at Hyunjin with another smile. “Oh, that’s my class. I guess we’ll be seeing each other all summer, then?”

“Yeah.” Hyunjin’s stomach turns at the idea. “See you.”

Bomi grimaces as she heads down the hallway, her sandals clapping on the tiles so loudly that Hyunjin hears the echoes in his head long after she’s gone.

“Dude, who the hell was that?” Jisung asks, his face contorting in disgust. “She’s fucking scary, she looked like she was gonna _eat_ somebody.”

“She’s my ex-girlfriend.” Hyunjin says, adjusting his bag strap on his shoulder self-consciously.

“She’s your _what_?” Jisung’s jaw drops. “Since when did you have a girlfriend?”

“I don’t have one anymore, obviously.” Hyunjin says irritably, starting down the opposite hallway. “She’s my _ex_.”

“Since when were you even into _girls_?”

Hyunjin stops and spins around on his heel, frowning at Jisung. “What kind of a question is that?”

Jisung rests a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder. “Oh, were you going through an _experimental phase_? Dude… My dude…”

“A _what_ now?” Hyunjin makes a face. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“What does Seungmin think about it?” Jisung waggles his eyebrows.

“What does Seungmin have to do with it?” Hyunjin folds his arms. He shakes his head. “Seungmin’s my best friend. He was supportive of me. Like any friend would be if their friend started seeing someone.”

Jisung nods slowly. “Of course.”

Minho looks up at the institute, where whitish-gray smoke is being fanned out of a second-story window. All the other researchers are watching, too, in various states of mental alertness and scattered all over the road in front of the institute, as the plumes of smoke climb up to join the rest of the late spring haze.

Seungmin looks around, stopping to frown at one of the graduate students asleep on the curb before turning back to Minho. “Does this happen often?”

“No, not as long as I’ve been here.” Minho feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He hadn’t wanted to switch it on again, but the director had decided to ask _him_ to call the fire station.

“Huh.” Seungmin frowns at the sleeping graduate student, who scratches his belly as he rolls over on the curb.

Minho’s curiosity takes over. He knows it’s going to be the death of him one day. _Maybe that day is today,_ he thinks as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

> _YH:_ Babe I’m sorry can we talk?

Minho drums his fingers on the side of his plastic phone case. He knows where this is headed, and he’s sure little to no talking will be involved.

“Hey, Donghyuck,” Minho says.

The new intern jumps in surprise, tearing his eyes away from the smoke coming out of the second floor. “Yeah?”

“Heads or tails?”

“Uh…” Donghyuck shrugs. “Heads?”

Minho nods, unclipping a coin-shaped keychain from the lanyard around his neck. He flips it in the air, catching it on top of one palm.

He doesn’t know what he wants to see, but he uncovers the coin to find the cartoon face of an amusement park mascot smiling up at him.

“I guess I’m _not_ breaking up with my boyfriend today.” Minho hums, clipping the keychain back onto his lanyard.

“Respectfully, what the _hell_?” Donghyuck frowns.

Seungmin turns to Minho, frowning as well. Even Arin looks mildly concerned.

Minho taps Yaebin on the arm. “Hey, Yaebin, could you look after the interns for me? Something came up at home.”

“Ew.” Yaebin says, not looking away from the smoke for a second.

“Thanks.” Minho says, pulling his phone out of his pocket again.

> _MH:_ Just got off work. I’ll meet you at your place
> 
> _YH:_ I’ll come pick you up
> 
> _MH:_ No.
> 
> _MH:_ I’ll meet you at your place.

_Two more weeks later_

Minho wakes up a couple seconds before his alarm. He tries to grab his phone to snooze it, but he’s so tangled in the sheets that his hand doesn’t make it.

Minho grumbles and starts clambering out of the sheets.

“Turn it off,” His boyfriend groans, grabbing a pillow to dump it over his head.

“I’m trying to do that.” Minho snaps at him, reaching for the phone.

“Why do you have an alarm on a Saturday?”

“I’ve got to do something in the lab.” Minho says, answering the math problem his alarm gives him.

“On a _Saturday_?”

Minho glares at his boyfriend, whose face is still under the pillow. A brief, intrusive though breaks through: _What if I finished the job?_

Minho makes a face at himself. _You’re starting to think like a heterosexual, Minho. Just break up with him, there’s no need for murder._

“Yes, on a Saturday.” Minho says, propping up his pillows behind him while he scrolls aimlessly through his Instagram feed. “Cancer cells are _very_ needy and can’t be left alone for more than a day.”

One of his boyfriend’s hands finds its way to pat Minho’s thigh. “What, like you?”

Minho scoffs. _How did I end up with a man this fucking stupid?_

His boyfriend laughs. “Oh come on, baby, you know I didn’t mean it. It’s just a joke.”

“Whatever.” Minho just shrugs and keeps scrolling down his feed. His sister was partying again last night. Minho’s stomach tickles with jealousy. He hasn’t been to a party in probably years.

Felix and Changbin seem to have gone on another picnic date. Minho’s stomach does a backflip with jealousy. He looks across the bed at the large, lazy creature that couldn’t be bothered to do anything with Minho that involves clothes, much less adorable checkered picnic blankets.

Minho keeps scrolling, faster now so he doesn’t see anything else he can get annoyed by on this damn morning. The phone seems to misunderstand him and decides to refresh the page, dragging him all the way back to the top. Minho thinks about replacing it.

He looks across the bed again. _I’ve got a lot of things that need replacing._

The app finally loads again, and the first photo that shows up on Minho’s screen sends his brain on a rollercoaster ride straight into the depths of hell.

“Who’s that?” His boyfriend asks, resting his chin on Minho’s shoulder as he peers over at Minho’s phone.

“My… friend. Jisung.” Minho says. He doesn’t care if he sounds suspect, he can’t really think right now.

His boyfriend laughs. “It’s so gross when people are like that in public. And when they post it? Eurgh. Disgusting.”

Minho opens his mouth, but he doesn’t form words.

“You and I would never post something like that, right?” His boyfriend says, pressing his lips to Minho’s jaw. “We’re not-”

“I’ve got to go.” Minho says, placing his phone facedown on the bedside table.

His boyfriend rests a hand Minho’s chest. “Can’t the stupid cancer cells wait a couple hours?”

Minho glares at him. “Can’t you?”

Seungmin’s just clipped the bike he’s renting to the rack outside the institute when someone grabs his backpack.

Seungmin whirls around and smacks them in the face with his palm.

“Ow, holy mother of _fuck_ , Kim Seungmin, what the _FUCK_!”

“Shit. Sorry, Minho,” Seungmin says, bending over to help Minho off the pavement. “You shouldn’t surprise me like that.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? _Ip Man_?” Minho grimaces, taking his hand away from his lips to find blood on his fingers. “God, now everyone’s going to think I’m a loser who gets their ass beat.”

“Well, we can just explain to them that you’re a crazy person who grabs people’s bags from behind.”

“Seungmin, nobody’s gonna steal your shit here. You and I are considered to be _provincial poor_ here.”

“I think you shouldn’t say that, unless you _do_ want to get beat up.” Seungmin says, reaching into his bag for a handkerchief, which he holds out to Minho. “Here. Don’t get blood all over your Gucci shirt.”

“Thanks.” Minho dabs at his lip, which seems to have slowed down from gushing blood to welling blood in huge drops. He does check his designer shirt for any stains. “Oh. This isn’t _my_ shirt, it’s my boyfriend’s.”

“I didn’t need to know that.”

“No, I just put on whatever I could reach and fucking ran over here because I know you don’t remember your Instagram password.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Seungmin sighs.

Minho holds the handkerchief between his teeth while he pulls his phone out and unlocks it. He taps on the screen furiously while Seungmin watches over in mild concern.

“Minho, I don’t care-”

Minho turns the phone to face Seungmin. “No, you _have_ to see this.”

Seungmin stares at the phone for a while that can only be described as long and painful. His brain seems disconnected from his eyes for a moment there, because he’s just seeing and not understanding.

Then he realizes he’s looking at a photo on Hyunjin’s account that he hadn’t seen before. Hyunjin looks cute, of course. But Jisung’s there, too. And he’s kissing Hyunjin on the cheek.

_Study date w/ my boyfieeee_ ✌ _,_ the caption reads.

“Since when were _they_ dating!?” Minho asks, his voice cracking.

“They’re not.” Seungmin says flatly.

“Then what the fuck is this!?”

“I don’t know.”

“They’re _your_ schoolmates, Seungmin, shouldn’t you know!?”

Seungmin feels his blood boiling. He can hear his heart drumming in his ears. _Minho’s right. Oh god, Minho’s right._

_Why don’t I?_


	3. Every time I meet you, you change

“… so I said, _With all due respect Mr. Yoon, go fuck yourself_ ,” Mark says, leaning on the door to the café with one shoulder to hold it open for Jinyoung.

“Please tell me you’re joking.” Jinyoung sighs.

“No, I’m not.” Mark says, but he only holds a straight face for all of five seconds before breaking into a grin. “He wasn’t wearing his hearing aid, don’t worry.”

“I swear to god, Mark, if you lose your job again…” Jinyoung looks up at the menu painted carefully onto a chalk board. He makes a face at the sheer number of fruity and juicy items. “What the hell is going on?”

“It’s summer, you asshole.” Younghyun says, coming out of the café’s kitchen in a bright orange Hawaiian shirt.

Mark chortles, lifting one hand to his face to disguise it as a cough.

“God, I hope this was your sister’s idea.” Jinyoung says, making a face at the aggressively yellow bananas dancing across Younghyun’s chest.

“Do you really think I’d inflict this on myself?” Younghyun asks through gritted teeth.

The door to the kitchen opens again, and Younghyun’s sister comes hopping in carrying a tray of freshly baked cookies. “Hey guys! Has Younghyun taken your orders yet?”

“Nope.” Jinyoung says.

Sana lifts the tray as if threatening to bring it down on Younghyun’s head, never once breaking her smile. “Take their orders, Younghyun.”

Younghyun plasters on a too-broad smile. “Hey _friends_ , what can I get you guys today?”

“Two iced americanos, double-shot.” Mark says.

“Oh, sorry, we’re all out of coffee. Could I interest you in a strawberry-”

“You’re a goddamn café, man.” Mark frowns. 

Jinyoung gently pulls Mark behind him. “Younghyun, what the hell is going on?”

“I _am_ in hell,” Younghyun says slowly, casting a wary glance at his sister, who seems busy waiting on one of the other tables. “But I don’t know what I’m being punished for.”

“I was asking about the coffee.”

“We don’t have any. Our beans didn’t arrive this week.”

“Ah, shit.” Jinyoung makes a face. “We’ll just go somewhere else-”

“No! No need!” Sana says, making Jinyoung jump and grab his chest in surprise. “We’ve got some coffee upstairs.”

“That’s for family only.” Younghyun says nervously.

“Well,” Sana says, giving Jinyoung a not-entirely-welcome side hug. “We’re kinda family now, right, Jinyoung?”

“I do not know what you’re talking about and I’m not sure I-”

“You know, because your brother’s dating our Jisung?” Sana scrunches her nose with a smile. “We’re like in-laws.”

Jinyoung blinks at her for a few seconds. “My brother is _what_?”

“Cap! Cap! Caaaaaaaaap!”

Chan frowns. _That sounds like Hyunjoon. Hyunjoon’s voice always enters the room before the rest of him does._

Sure enough, Hyunjoon bursts into the locker room waving his phone. “Cap, have you seen Bang Chan?”

Younghoon closes his locker, frowning down at Hyunjoon. “What is it now?”

Chan nudges Younghoon gently with his elbow. He shoots him a look that says, _Be nice, Younghoon._

“What’s wrong, Hyunjoon?” Chan asks.

Hyunjoon turns his phone to face them both. “This.”

Younghoon frowns. “I don’t see-”

“Park Hyunjin! And Han Jisung! Are _dating!_ ” Hyunjoon makes a loud gagging noise. “As in, _dating_ dating!”

Younghoon pushes the phone back to Hyunjoon with one finger. “I still don’t see what’s wrong with that.”

“Good for them?” Chan shrugs.

“You two are hopeless.” Hyunjoon searches around the last of their teammates still milling about the locker room. “Who knows them… Who knows- Hey Juyeon, Park Hyunjin and Han Jisung are dating!”

Juyeon gives Hyunjoon an uneasy smile. “Uh… yay?”

“Hold up, I need to pee.” Felix says, pausing the game. Changbin’s character is suspended in midair, with his fist right in Felix’s character’s face.

Changbin smirks at him, poking Felix in the thigh. “No, you were just losing.”

“I seriously need to pee, Bin,” Felix says, poking Changbin right back. “Do you want proof?”

“Ew, gross, just go,” Changbin laughs, stretching to reach for his phone across the bed. He opens a bunch of apps to pass the time.

Felix comes out of the bathroom to find Changbin starting at his phone. “What’s up? Do _you_ need to pee?”

“No, no, its just… This is weird.” Changbin says.

“What is?” Felix snuggles up to him from behind, resting his face in the crook of Changbin’s neck as he peeks at Changbin’s phone. “Oh. What the hell?”

“Right?” Changbin makes a face. “I’ve known those two pretty much all my life and Jisung has _never_ said anything about being into Hyunjin.”

“Well, Park Hyunjin’ll date _anybody_.” Felix mutters.

Changbin turns to Felix, mouth ajar in shock. “ _Lee Felix_ , how could you say that about our friend?”

“Your friend, maybe,” Felix shrugs, tightening his arms around Changbin’s waist. “Not mine.”

“You can’t still be mad about that. It’s been years, Lix,” Changbin laughs, twisting around to nibble on Felix’s jaw. “And I was always into you, not him-”

“He could’ve kept his hands off of you.” Felix shrugs. “But he didn’t. Why? Because he’s _easy_.”

“Felix!” Changbin shrieks with laughter. He pokes Felix’s hands, which are wrapped tightly around him. “As if _you_ can keep your hands off of me!”

“Don’t try to _ad hominem_ me, that’s not the point of this conversation,” Felix says, giving Changbin’s stomach a light flick with one finger. “The point is, Park Hyunjin is notoriously slutty-”

“Felix! Stop!” Changbin says, tipping over to lay on the floor from laughter. “Bad Felix!”

“-and I’m not surprised that he noticed Jisung’s been working out, getting relatively swole – for Jisung, of course – and he hopped on that faster than you can say-”

“ _FELIX_!”

Seungmin listens to the shrill ring over the phone. It’s rung three times, and Hyunjin hasn’t picked up. Seungmin’s about to hang up when the call picks up.

“Hey Seungmin! Sorry, I just got out of class,” Hyunjin pants on his end, like he’d just been running. “What’s up?”

Seungmin had been confused and kind of pissed off all morning, but he forgets it for a moment. He can already imagine Hyunjin’s bright pink face from running out of the Math building just to pick up Seungmin’s call, and it makes him smile.

“Sorry.” Seungmin says. “I forgot about your schedule.”

“It’s fine!” Hyunjin says between pants. “How are you? Is something up?”

“No, I’m good.” Seungmin says.

“What’s the food in the dorm there like?”

“Not as good as ours.” Seungmin says, picking at the leaves of one of the hedges around the institute. “And there’s a limit to how many dinner rolls you can get.”

“Oh my god, it’s like _The Hunger Games._ ”

Seungmin laughs. “No, it’s not nearly that bad. The people are… Well, Minho’s nice. As nice as Minho can be.”

“The other interns are mean?”

“No, they’re just… I guess I’m not the friendliest person either, so I don’t blame them.”

“Are you kidding? You’re the nicest guy ever,” Hyunjin huffs. “It’s their loss.”

Seungmin shrugs before he realizes Hyunjin can’t see it. “How have your classes been? You haven’t called me for help, so I guess you don’t need it?”

“Oh, uh… Jisung’s been helping me.”

“Oh.” Seungmin says, accidentally ripping a handful of leaves off the hedge. He quickly sprinkles them onto the hedge again, trying to shove them back in place.

“Yeah, he’s actually kind of good at math! Not as good as you, but like, you know, better than me. Way better than me,” Hyunjin laughs.

“I could still help you.”

“No, I’m sure you’re busy over there.” Hyunjin says. “The cancer’s not gonna research itself.”

Seungmin bites his lip to hold back on a smile, even though there’s no one around to see it. “You can still call me if you need anything.”

“I know.” Hyunjin says, and Seungmin can hear that he’s smiling. “I miss you a lot.”

“I…” Seungmin chews on his lip. “It’s only been two weeks, Hyunjin.”

“I know but like, the dorm is _so_ quiet. Most of the guys have gone home for the summer. It’s really creepy at night.”

“Maybe you can stay at Jisung’s.” Seungmin frowns at himself. _Why did you say that? Why would you-_

“Oh, you’re right.” Hyunjin laughs. “Maybe I will.”

Seungmin notices Donghyuck looking curiously at him through one of the building’s first-floor windows. He quickly turns to face the hedges. “Oh, uh, sorry Hyunjin, I- I’ve got to go.”

“Sure! I’ll call soon! Bye-bye, Seungmin!”

“Bye.”

Seungmin quickly hangs up and locks his phone just as Donghyuck comes out through the building’s side door.

“They’re calling us to shadow one of the grad students for some experiment.” Donghyuck says.

“Oh, okay.” Seungmin nods.

“How’s your mom doing?”

Seungmin had forgotten what kind of dumb shit he’d told the others to sneak out. “Oh, she’s all right.”

“Never seen someone blush _that_ hard talking to their mom.” Donghyuck hums, starting up the stairs, leaving Seungmin to reach up and touch his warm cheeks self-consciously.

Minho finds himself scouring Jisung’s Instagram page for no reason other than the fact that he deeply hates himself. But it seems to be nothing but terribly-taken selfies (drunk or sober), pictures of the sky, and random things that Jisung had found funny, like a trash can that looked like it had a sad face ( _aww hang in there, lil guy,_ the caption of that photo read). Minho keeps scrolling absently until he realizes he’s scrolled too far back, and finds a photo of himself.

The Minho in the photo is curled up on one of the benches in Jisung’s aunt’s café. The café is dark and all of the other chairs had been overturned for the night, and Minho’s rolled up his apron as a makeshift pillow under his head. His eyes are shut, and the light from the kitchen casts a fan-shaped shadow through his eyelashes onto his cheeks.

_he looks almost like an angel… almost,_ the caption reads.

The rumble of an engine surprises Minho, making his thumb jerk and press the photo. A little white heart floats up on his screen.

_FUCK._

Minho quickly taps the photo again to get rid of the heart. He locks his phone and climbs into his boyfriend’s car.

“Hey-”

“Who were you talking to?”

Minho frowns. “What?”

“Who were you talking to, just now?” His boyfriend asks with a grin. “Anyone I should be jealous of?”

Minho scoffs. “As if-”

“The fuck?” His boyfriend’s hand stops on the way to lifting the brakes, resting instead on Minho’s chin, to tilt Minho’s face to him. “Who the hell did you fight?”

“I-”

“Oh come on, Minho, did you get blood on my shirt? You know that takes forever to wash out.”

Minho shoves his boyfriend’s hand away. “No, I didn’t get into a fight and no, there’s no blood on your tacky-ass shirt.”

“Okay, okay, no need to bitch about it.” His boyfriend raises both hands in surrender. “I was just asking-”

“You weren’t gonna ask if I was okay, maybe? Look at my goddamn mouth,” Minho says, jutting out his split lip in a pout. “I won’t be able to eat spicy food for _ages_.”

“Then just don’t eat spicy food, Minho, it’s not a problem-”

“I won’t be able to make out, either.” Minho says tensely. “Or suck dick. Or-”

“Oh come on, Minho, it’s not _that_ bad. Have you never been in a fight before?”

“No, I’m not a disgusting frat boy.”

“Can we go five minutes without you attacking my fraternity?”

“No, I hate all fraternities, yours isn’t anything special.”

“They _are_ special. They don’t mind that I’ve got a boyfriend,” His boyfriend says. “Even if he’s bitchiest fucking boyfriend to walk the face of this Earth.”

“Let’s break up.”

His boyfriend’s hand hesitates before touching the brakes again. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” Minho smiles, but it pulls the wound on his lip open again, and he winces with pain. “Ow, fuck.”

“That’s not a funny joke, Minho.”

“I’m not joking.” Minho says, opening the glove compartment to grab a tissue for his mouth. “Why, do you not want to break up?”

“No, of course I don’t! I like you, Minho.”

“Why? Because I’m pretty and good at sex and it makes you _different_ to be the only guy dating a guy in the entire frat-”

“No, you’re brilliant, you’re witty, you’re going to cure cancer,” His boyfriend reaches across the console to rub Minho’s thigh. “And when you’re in a good mood, you’re actually pretty sweet.”

“I already said “pretty,” so you’ve got to think of something else.” Minho makes a face, holding the tissue to his lower lip. “I’ll give you five minutes.”

His boyfriend’s brows furrow with worry. _They’re nice eyebrows_ , Minho notes. _Part of the trap._

“Please don’t break up with me.”

It takes all of Minho’s self-control not to laugh in his face. “Too late, I’ve made up my mind.”

His boyfriend’s worry shifts to irritation. “Why? Is there someone else?”

Minho snorts. “Wouldn’t you like that? Someone to take your frustrations out on? Well, sorry, Seo Yunho, you lost to _no fucking one_. You’re just that shitty.”

Minho opens the car door and steps out.

“Hey! I’m not done talking to you!”

Minho ignores him, skipping up the stone steps to the National Cancer Research Institute. _He’s right. I_ am _brilliant. And witty. And I- Well, I’m not going to cure cancer but I_ may _one day find a putative target for cancer therapy that no drug will actually end up working on. That’s something._

“Lee Minho! Minho! I love you! Get back here!”

Minho taps his ID card against the door. He’s only just pushed it open when someone grabs his arm from behind.

“I love you,” Yunho says again, holding onto Minho’s forearm so tightly that Minho’s hand is starting to go numb.

_Oh hell no. I need that hand for pipetting._

Minho’s about to smack his ex-boyfriend in the face when something flies in and beats him to it.

The sound the object makes against Yunho’s skull is satisfyingly hollow, and _loud_. It sends him reeling backwards, stumbling down the institute’s front steps.

Minho turns around to find Seungmin carrying an umbrella on the wrong end, but gripping it like a baseball bat. Minho’s mouth, despite the sting from his wound, curls into a smile.

“Who the fuck-” Yunho staggers to his feet, holding his nose. Blood’s streaming out through the cracks between his fingers.

“Touch him again, I dare you.” Seungmin says, lifting the umbrella again like he’s stepping up to the plate.

“Okaaaay, hold up, I think you’ve harmed enough people today, Seungmin,” Minho says, pulling Seungmin back by his plaid shirt. He fixes Yunho with a grin. “Yunho, this one of the interns. That’s why we take good care of interns around here, because they take care of us, too.”

“Screw you. You’re fucking insane! I’m calling the police on your goddamn intern!” Yunho says, stumbling back to his car. “AND FOR THE RECORD, _YOU SUCK AT BLOW JOBS_!”

“ISN’T THAT KIND OF THE POINT?” Minho yells back, but all he gets is the slamming of the car door in reply. He turns back to Seungmin, only to find the other two interns standing on the top step of the institute, staring at him with wide eyes.

Minho clears his throat, gently easing the slightly-bent umbrella out of Seungmin’s grip. “And that’s why you should put your studies before dating, kids.”

Arin makes a face. “We’re only a year younger than you.”

Donghyuck regards Seungmin with a grimace. “Remind me not to get on your bad side, Seungmin.”

Hyunjin listens to the wind whistling outside his window. He hears a thump from somewhere else in the floor, but he knows for a fact that the guys in the other five rooms on their floor had all gone home for the summer.

He pulls the covers up to his chin, even though it’s not a particularly cool night.

“Please don’t be a ghost, please don’t be a ghost-” Hyunjin screws his eyes shut. “Okay, if you’re a ghost please don’t come near me, I don’t want to see you, please don’t take it personally-”

Another loud bump sends Hyunjin screaming.

He reaches for his phone, completely ducked under the covers.

> _Jinnie_ ❤ _:_ HAN JISUNG ARE YOU BUSY RN
> 
> _Sungie_ ❤ _:_ YO WTF WATS UP
> 
> _Jinnie_ ❤ _:_ THE DORM IS HAUNTED PLS HELP
> 
> _Sungie_ ❤ _:_ WHAT DO YOU MEAN
> 
> _Sungie_ ❤ _:_ IM NOT THE MOTEHRFCUCKING GHOSTBUSTERS
> 
> _Jinnie_ ❤ _:_ JISUNG PLEEEEAAAAAASE
> 
> _Jinnie_ ❤ _:_ PLEAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSE
> 
> _Sungie_ ❤ _:_ FUCK WHAT DO I DO
> 
> _Jinnie_ ❤ _:_ ANYTHING
> 
> _Sungie_ ❤ _:_ FUCK
> 
> _Sungie_ ❤ _:_ OK IM OMW
> 
> _Jinnie_ ❤ _:_ HURRY

Hyunjin whimpers when he hears another noise, burrowing deeper under the covers.

> _Jinnie_ ❤ _:_ PLS HURRY
> 
> _Sungie_ ❤ _:_ I’m pedaling as fast as I can. <Sent via Voice Type>
> 
> _Jinnie_ ❤ _:_ HUHUHUHUHU

Hyunjin squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for his phone to ping and let him know Jisung’s sent another text. _If Seungmin were here… This wouldn’t be happening. He’d just say that ghosts don’t exist and all the ghosts will go away._

A loud bang against the door sends Hyunjin screaming again.

“It’s me! Chill the fuck out! It’s just me!” Jisung’s voice come from across the door.

Hyunjin rises from the bed, still wrapped in the duvet as he opens the door a crack. “Jisung?”

“Dude, let me in, if there are ghosts out here, I don’t want to-”

Hyunjin pulls Jisung into the room and into his arms, squeezing him tightly.

“Oh- Oh shit, okay,” Jisung pats Hyunjin on the back. On the duvet, really. “Don’t worry, dude, I’ve got you. If the demons come in here, we’ll die together.”

“Don’t say that.” Hyunjin whimpers. “There’s no such thing.”

“Demons?” Jisung says, closing the door quickly behind him. “Uh, yeah, there definitely _is_.”

Minho hears the door to the tissue culture room swing open and shut behind him. He knows all the others in the lab had gone home, and that the building’s security guard isn’t nearly thorough enough to go into rooms when he does his rounds.

_There’s only one explanation: It’s a fucking demon._

“Leave me alone,” Minho mutters, sliding one flask out of the incubator and under a microscope. He picks up the spray bottle next to the microscope. “I’ve got holy water and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“What the fuck?”

Minho spins around in his chair, eyes wide in surprise. “I thought you were a demon.”

Seungmin snickers. “Last I checked, I’m not.”

“What’re you still doing here?” Minho asks, turning back to peer into the microscope.

“Oh, I left with the others a while ago. Just came back to get my charger.”

“Ah, yeah, Yaebin found it. It’s in my drawer upstairs.”

“I know.” Seungmin perches on the stool next to Minho’s. “I was actually going to leave when the guard told me you were still here and could I kindly ask you to go the fuck home.”

“Ah, well, now that you’ve done that, you’re free to go,” Minho waves Seungmin away with one gloved hand. “Thanks, Seungmin.”

“I actually wanted to ask if you wanted to grab a few drinks.”

Minho nearly drops the flask of unfortunate cancer cells onto the floor. “P- Pardon?”

“It’s been a shitty day. Staying here working all night isn’t going to make that better.”

“And drinking will?”

“Well, no,” Seungmin smiles. “But it’s a lot less eyestrain than what you’re doing now.”

“Point taken.” Minho chuckles as he pops the flask back into the incubator. “Who the hell are you and what have you done with Kim Seungmin?”

“We haven’t talked to each other since high school,” Seungmin shrugs. “It’d be pretty sad if we were exactly the same as we were then, right?”

Minho lifts an eyebrow. “Point taken.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yunho: I’m calling the police on your goddamn intern!  
> My sister: Seungmin’s already been to jail yunho ur ugly fratty ass and the shitty city police don’t scare him


	4. You meet all the people in the world, but you have no time to give me?

“Careful, I don’t think you know what you’re doing,” Seungmin laughs, reaching out to try to take the bottle of soju away from Minho.

“No.” Minho holds the bottle at an arm’s length, nearly hitting the guy at the next table. “I transfer clear liquids from one container to another for a living.”

“You’re not being paid to-” Seungmin stops midsentence, because Minho’s just poured two equal shots of soju without spilling a single drop. “Okay, never mind.”

“See?” Minho scrunches his nose at Seungmin before downing his shot in one go. “Drink, don’t leave me alone.”

Seungmin nods and throws his shot back in one gulp, which sends a shudder down his spine.

Minho starts laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Seungmin frowns.

“You don’t drink often, do you?” Minho narrows his eyes at Seungmin, making a few accusatory jabs at him with the half-empty soju bottle.

“No, I don’t.” Seungmin says, taking a huge sip of water. “I like my liver.”

“And yet we’ve gone through three bottles between the two of us…” Minho says, tapping the empty bottles with the one in his hand. “Three and three quarters.”

“You’re the one who keeps ordering more.” Seungmin frowns. “Because you broke up with your boyfriend, I get it-”

“Oh, fuck that guy. This isn’t about him,” Minho rolls his eyes. “ _You’re_ the one who’s so fucking pissed that Park Hyunjin is dating Jisung-”

“Why do _you_ care that Par- that _Hyunjin’s_ dating Jisung?” Seungmin asks, narrowing his eyes at Minho, but he’s having a hard time focusing on Minho’s face.

“Because you’re my friend and it is a _huge_ disservice to you-”

“It isn’t because it’s Jisung?”

Minho slams the bottle down on the table, making a passing waitress jump. “I broke up with him years ago, Seungmin, why should I care who he’s dating now?”

“I don’t know.” Seungmin says, gently prying the bottle free of Minho’s grasp before the latter has the opportunity to smash it. “You tell me.”

“You’re just projecting.” Minho says.

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes, you are. You’re upset Hyunjin is dating someone else-”

“He’s dated other people before-”

“That stupid thing with Seo Changbin doesn’t count-”

“He had a girlfriend. Until a month ago.”

Minho blinks at Seungmin for a whole minute. Seungmin only pours himself another shot with the last of the soju in their fourth bottle, then drinks it in one deeply uncomfortable gulp.

“A girlfriend?” Minho asks quietly.

“Her name’s Bomi. She’s taking the same major as Hyunjin. She’s really, uh, _driven_.” Seungmin says. “And beautiful. She’s really beautiful.”

“I’m sorry, Seungmin.”

“What for? Hyunjin’s the one she broke up with, not me. And you don’t even need to feel bad for him,” Seungmin says, calmly folding a tissue into something that might’ve been an origami shape missing a few steps. “He’s got Jisung now.”

Minho hugs his arms. He’s only just realized that it’s pretty cold out. _What time is it?_

“I only care who Hyunjin’s dating if they’re not good for him, because he’s my friend.” Seungmin says. He looks up at Minho. “It’s like with your shitty ex-boyfriend, I only stepped in because he looked like he was going to hurt you.”

“I could’ve kicked his ass myself,” Minho says defensively, before his expression softens a little bit. “But thanks.”

“I’m overstepping here, but why the hell were you dating him anyway?”

“Yeah, you’re overstepping.” Minho laughs, raising a hand to call the waitress’s attention and order another bottle of soju. “I don’t know why I was dating him. He’s hot, I guess. I have really shitty taste in men. I’ll never understand it.”

“Maybe you should be at a Shitty Taste in Men Research Institute instead.” Seungmin says, before breaking out into giggles.

“God, Seungmin, that’s not even funny,” Minho grins. “You’re not funny at all.”

“At least I’m not dating fuckboys.”

“You’re not dating _anyone_ \- Oh my god.”

Seungmin frowns at Minho. “What’s up?”

“That’s it!” Minho’s mouth curls slowly into a grin, from one side to another in a way that reminds Seungmin of the Cheshire Cat. Seungmin hates the Cheshire Cat. _Creepy motherfucker._

“I don’t- Oh, thank you,” Seungmin says, smiling at the waitress when she returns with another bottle of soju. “This is the last one, can we please have the bill?”

“Listen, Seungmin, have you ever dated anyone?”

“No, and entirely by choice, mind you-”

“That’s it. Hyunjin’s out there fucking everything that moves-”

“Please do not say that about my best friend.”

“Okay, sure, whatever, but anyway, Hyunjin’s always dating someone _right in your face_ , isn’t he?”

Seungmin grimaces. “Somewhat, yeah.”

“Give him a taste of his own medicine.” Minho grins, snatching the bottle from Seungmin and taking a long swig straight from the bottle before Seungmin can stop him.

“I think this conversation needs to stop here.” Seungmin chuckles, snatching the bottle back. “I won’t date you, Minho.”

Minho smirks. “I didn’t even say that.”

“I can read between the lines.”

“I know you can,” Minho reaches across the table, and Seungmin holds the bottle out of his reach. But Minho raises his hand to ruffle Seungmin’s hair instead. “You’re the smartest person I know.”

“Flattery won’t change my mind, Minho,” Seungmin says, pouring himself another shot.

“No, but you’ll figure it out.” Minho smiles sliding his empty shot glass across the table to Seungmin. “And you’ll see that I’m right.”

“I see that you’re drunk,” Seungmin says, sliding the empty shot glass back to Minho.

“Maybe so,” Minho says, grabbing Seungmin’s shot and drinking it. “But I’m still right.”

Seungmin laughs, pouring himself another shot in Minho’s glass. “Let’s finish this bottle then call it a night?”

“Yeah.” Minho agrees. “My offer will still stand tomorrow, when we’re sober.”

“My answer will still be no.”

_A year ago_

Seungmin glances up from the book he’s reading. His eyes meet Hyunjin’s in the reflection on the wall mirror, which makes Hyunjin’s eyes widen.

Hyunjin had his shirt pulled up halfway, but he drops the hem quickly, his entire face turning pink. He gathers up his clothes in his arms and starts for the bathroom. “I’ll change in the bathroom.”

“Okay…” Seungmin says slowly, flipping his page with a small frown. He and Hyunjin have been changing around each other for years. _What’s changed?_

_Maybe he’s trying to hide something. Did he get a tattoo?_

_Even so, I wouldn’t mind if he did._

_Unless it’s misspelled._

_Maybe he has a misspelled tattoo and he’s too embarrassed to let me know._ Seungmin grins at the idea, scanning down the page of his book without really understanding anything.

The door to the bathroom opens again, and Hyunjin comes out in a crisp button-down and his one pair of jeans without holes in them.

Seungmin lifts both eyebrows. “Where are you going?”

“Uh…” Hyunjin’s face begins to go from peach to cherry. It makes Seungmin smile. _Cute_.

“I’m gonna order dinner in a little while, so I guess I’m just ordering for me?” Seungmin asks, flipping his page, though he hadn’t read any of the previous two thoroughly.

“Yeah.” Hyunjin runs a hand through his hair, which looks suspiciously like it’s carrying some kind of product. “I’m going to have dinner out.”

“Okay.” Seungmin flips the next page.

“With Bomi.”

“Your classmate? The pretty one?”

“Uh…Yeah.”

Seungmin flips another page. “Have fun.”

Hyunjin nods, slipping his wallet into his pocket before heading for the door.

He lifts his hand to the doorknob, but doesn’t turn it. Instead, he turns around to look at Seungmin, who only lifts his eyebrows without looking away from his book.

“Did you forget something?” Seungmin asks.

“We’re dating.” Hyunjin says. 

Seungmin flips yet another page he hasn’t read. “Hm?”

“Bomi and I. We’re dating.” Hyunjin says. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Seungmin closes the book, smiling tensely at Hyunjin. “I got it the first time.”

“Um… I just thought you’d like to know.” Hyunjin scuffs his sock against the floor. “So there’s nothing weird between us anymo-”

“There’s nothing weird between us.”

“But like, since that night- You know, after we won nationals-”

“Nothing happened then.” Seungmin swallows thickly, looking at a crack in the wall to avoid Hyunjin’s gaze. “Why would it be weird between us if nothing happened?”

“O- Oh, right. You’re right. Dumb me.” Hyunjin laughs nervously. “Uh, anyway, I’ll go now. She doesn’t like it when I’m late.”

“I can’t imagine anyone would.” Seungmin hums, opening his book again to a random page.

Hyunjin nods, turning to the door again. His hand’s just made it to the doorknob when he turns to Seungmin again.

“Uh, don’t wait up for me.” Hyunjin says, his face reddening furiously. “Tonight, I mean.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“Okay. Bye.” Hyunjin shuffles quickly out of the dorm room.

Seungmin realizes he’s crumpled the corner of his page between two fingers. He starts pressing down on it to try to smoothen it out, but it’s no use.

_Present_

“Hey, Hyunjin?”

“Hm?”

“I’ve got to go.” Jisung whispers, trying to climb as carefully as he can out of the bed. He reaches out to tuck the covers up to Hyunjin’s chin. “Mom and Dad are going to lose their minds if I’m not home before they wake up.”

Hyunjin mumbles something he doesn’t understand.

“Anyway, I think the demons are gone now,” Jisung continues in that hoarse whisper, tiptoeing to the door of the dorm room.

“G’night,” Hyunjin mumbles.

“Oh, yeah, good night.” Jisung nods. “Sleep tight, Hyunjin.”

“I love you,” Hyunjin mumbles.

Jisung frowns. “Uh, yeah, love you too, dude.”

Jisung digs around the pile of jackets hanging on the hooks by the door. It’s dark, that ridiculously dark time just a little bit before the sun rises – and Jisung’s parents murder him – and he can’t make out one dark-colored jacket from the other.

_This one looks like mine,_ he thinks as he slips into a denim jacket. He tiptoes out of the room, holding the door until he hears it lock behind him. Then he runs down the hallway he knows ought to be empty, and out of the dorm lobby.

The air outside smells so crisp after being cooped up in the athlete’s dorm. Jisung takes it in large gulps like a beached fish, trying to clear his lungs of that nasty sweaty boy smell he didn’t miss one bit.

He unclips his bicycle from the rack and starts off into the night. He’s only just made it to the university’s main street when he realizes there’s something wrong with his jacket. The cuffs aren’t knit, and it doesn’t have a cotton hood attached to it.

Jisung tries not to think about it, pedaling as fast as his exhausted legs can muster as he speeds through the empty streets. The sky’s lightening to a threatening lavender color that’s making Jisung sweat more than the unprecedented physical activity. He’s never been more grateful that his parents’ place is just five minutes away from the university.

Said parents seem to still be asleep when he tiptoes into the apartment. Jisung sheds the jacket that he’s _sure_ isn’t his, folding it neatly at the edge of the sofa like the owner’s breathing down his shoulder and pressing a knife to his back.

Jisung quickly changes into his pajamas and lays on the sofa, pulling a crumpled blanket over himself.

His parents’ bedroom door creaks open, followed by the drag of his mom’s house slippers on the apartment floor.

She cranes her neck to peek at Jisung in the living room, smiles briefly to herself, then heads into the kitchen.

_Nailed it. 10/10._ Jisung grins to himself. _Han Jisung, you living legend, you._

“Han Jisung, where have you been?” His mom hums.

_Crap._

Jisung pretends to yawn, stretching out until his hands and feet hand over the edges of the sofa. “Wha-?”

“You heard me,” His mom says, chopping onions with a worrying amount of force. “Where have you been? You only came in just now, didn’t you?”

Jisung rubs his eyes. “Mom, I don’t know what you’re-”

“I heard the door open and close.” His mom says.

Jisung starts sweating again. “My friend had an emergency.”

“There are emergency hotlines for that.” His mom smiles.

Jisung turns to stone on the spot. His mom’s smile has that effect. _She’s a mythological creature._

“You’re grounded for two weeks.” His mom says.

Jisung’s shoulders sag. “Oh, but Mom, my friend really-”

“And go take a shower, we’re going to church this morning.”

Jisung makes a face. “But we went to church yesterday, isn’t that enough?”

His mom raises two fingers. “Is two weeks not enough?”

“Touché,” Jisung nods, trudging towards the living room to shuffle through the clothes rack with all his things. He looks down at the denim jacket folded on one of the sofa’s armrests. Now, in the early morning light cutting through the curtains, Jisung has no idea how he could ever mistake the jacket for his own. It’s nice, expensive-looking, and seems to have been tailor-fit on top of that, for someone much taller than he is.

Jisung lifts the tag. Neatly printed in waterproof ink are the letters: _KSM_.

“Seungmin. Good morning.”

“Ugrhhgh.”

“Seungmin. We’re just going to the 7-eleven downstairs for lunch,” Arin says, standing in the doorway to Seungmin’s room. She gives the doorframe a few sharp raps. “Hello? Earth to Seungmin.”

Seungmin shields his eyes. “Turn off the light, please.”

Arin sighs, crossing the room to pulls Seungmin’s curtains shut. “That’s the sun, genius. I guess you’re not coming?”

“No thanks.” Seungmin mumbles. His head feels like it’s about to split open. _How much did I even drink last night?_

“We’ll get you some gross electrolyte drink.” Arin says. “Don’t die while we’re gone.”

“I won’t.” Seungmin grumbles, pulling his covers over his face. He frowns in the relative darkness. _What did I do last night?_

_Nothing questionable, I hope._

Seungmin sits up suddenly, even though the room is spinning around him. He fumbles for his phone on the bedside table. The battery’s down to 5%, despite it being plugged into the charger.

He follows the cord to the wall. _Goddamn._ The charger wasn’t plugged in.

He unlocks the phone anyway and digs through his recent contacts, hitting call before thinking twice.

“Sorry, I’m not alive yet-”

“Minho.” Seungmin says tensely, rubbing his temples. His head feels like it’s going to explode. 

“Oh, hey.”

“What did we do last night?”

Minho starts laughing on the other end, before dipping into a low groan. “Ow, my head-”

“Minho.” Seungmin says again. “What did we do last night?”

“We drank way too fucking much, that’s what we-”

“We didn’t kiss or anything, did we?”

Minho starts laughing again, before cutting into a low moan, “Stop making me laugh, Seungmin, it really hurts-”

“We didn’t do anything else, right?” Seungmin asks, his heart beating too loudly in his ears to hear Minho well. “Right?”

“No, we didn’t.” Minho scoffs, before moaning again. “Ow… I don’t kiss people when I’m drunk, Seungmin.”

“I don’t, either!” Seungmin says sharply.

“Then why did you ask?”

“No reason.” Seungmin says, flopping back onto his pillows in relief. “Have a nice day, Minho. Bye-”

“Oh, it’s too late for that. My stupid ex-boyfriend’s asking me to return all his shit he left in my house.” Minho grumbles. “Fucking loser.”

Seungmin rubs his temples. “Are you going to?”

“No, of course not.” Minho says. “Do you want new shoes? I think you two are the same size.”

Seungmin laughs, then immediately regrets it, rubbing his temples harder. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“You know what,” Minho hums. “I think I’m going to set all his shit on fire.”

“Wow, fuck the environment, I guess.”

“Mother Nature will let this one pass, she hates men.” Minho says. “I’ve got marshmallows. Wanna come over?”

“No thanks, Minho, I don’t think I can move.”

“Well, I’m inviting Felix and Changbin, if ever you want to join us.”

“Wow, I do _so_ want to see Seo Changbin on this day,” Seungmin grumbles, massaging the space in the middle of his forehead. “Bring back all the good memories I have of Seo Changbin.”

Minho snorts. “See? I told you. You’re jealous.”

Seungmin groans. “So what if I am?”

“Make him jealous for a change.”

“I’m not going to be your rebound, Minho.”

“Aw, cute, little baby Seungminnie still has some self-respect.” Minho says, and from his voice Seungmin just knows he’s got an annoying pout on. “We don’t even need to date for real, Seungmin. I’ll be a good fake boyfriend. I’ll take you out to dinner and lend you my jacket when it’s cold-”

“It’s summer.”

“Then I’ll take my shirt off for you when it’s hot.”

“No thanks, I’ll pass.” Seungmin grins. “Is there really no other frat boy lined up for you to waste your time on?”

“No, just an annoying intern.” Minho says. “You know where my aunt’s house is, right? It’s where we used to stay for nationals.”

“Yeah.”

“See you later.”

“I’m not-” Seungmin frowns at his phone. Minho had hung up on him. _Bitch._ He chuckles, before clutching his head in pain.

Someone knocks on his door. Donghyuck peeks in a split second later without waiting for a reply. “Knock knock, good morning Seungmin, we’ve got your electrolytes.”

“Thanks.” Seungmin says, climbing out of bed to dig around his suitcase.

“We’ve also got some extra food, if you want some.”

“Oh sorry, no thanks, I’m having lunch at a friend’s place.” Seungmin says, bundling up his clothes in his arms.

“All righty then.” Donghyuck says, lifting both eyebrows but saying nothing. He closes the door behind him, but Seungmin hears him say, “Seungmin’s got another motherfucking date, Arin.”

“What the hell does he have that we don’t?”

Seungmin rolls his eyes, but he smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arin: What the hell does he have that we don’t?  
> My sister: A criminal record 🤪


	5. I know I’m such a fool

“Batter up!”

Seungmin frowns as he walks up the winding drive to Minho’s aunt’s house that the upperclassman seems to have appropriated (or inherited, but one would hope not).

Something flies over Seungmin’s head, bouncing onto the pavement behind him.

Seungmin looks back and frowns at what seems to be a solitary Yeezy.

A bright face peeks over the fence around the garden atop the hill. Felix waves. “Hey Seungmin!”

Seungmin waves back, jogging up the stone steps to the garden gate.

“Ah, there he is, the only actual baseball player left among us,” Minho announces, not budging at all from the lounge chair he’s reclined on.

“Oh right, you are, aren’t you?” Changbin laughs, flexing the baseball glove on his hand.

“Aside from Hyunjin.” Seungmin gives him a friendly enough smile as he takes the baseball bat Felix is holding out to him.

“Careful, Changbin, he’s the best player in the university league,” Minho warns, adjusting his sunglasses so he can squint at Seungmin.

“Really? Good on you, dude.” Changbin beams, picking up what seems to be another of Minho’s ex-boyfriend’s expensive shoes.

“Thanks.” Seungmin steps onto one of the flat stones around the koi pond, lifting the bat as he narrows his eyes at Changbin.

Changbin winds up and tosses the shoe – a patent leather dress shoe – Seungmin’s way.

Seungmin swings the bat, grinning when the shoe connects with the bat with a loud slap.

Two pieces of shoe fly off into the nearby hedge, and one small thing, probably the buckle, flies off into the golf course next to Minho’s aunt’s house.

Seungmin turns to Minho, who’s sipping from a carton of coconut water with a little paper umbrella stuck in the opening. “Your aunt isn’t going to be mad about the mess?”

“My aunt? No, she’s busy searching for herself in Greece.” Minho says, waving a hand dismissively.

“I thought she was searching for herself in Italy.” Felix asks, digging through the pile of Minho’s ex-boyfriend’s things.

“I guess she didn’t find herself there.” Changbin says.

Felix stops rifling through shoes to grin up at him. It makes Seungmin and Minho both scowl. _That wasn’t even funny._

“Have you had lunch yet, Seungmin?” Minho asks.

“Not yet.”

“Oh I’ve got a bunch of leftovers in the fridge,” Minho peels himself from his lounge chair, lifting his sunglasses as they walk into the house. “Do you want beef stew or fried pork-”

Seungmin closes the door carefully behind him. “I can heat up my own food.”

“I know you can, but like I said, I’m an excellent boyfriend,” Minho says as he pulls a few containers out of the fridge, stacking them on one hand like a professional leftover reheater. He winks at Seungmin. “Real or fake.”

“Sorry, but I’m not interested,” Seungmin says, sitting on one of the bar stools by the kitchen island. “So I think you should quit it.”

“I’m not going to quit until I see Park Hyunjin lose his mind.” Minho says.

“But it’s not about Hyunjin, is it? You just want to know if Jisung still cares about you enough to be jealous-”

Minho glares at him, and for some reason, that shuts Seungmin up.

Minho sighs. He looks out the wide kitchen window at Changbin and Felix, who are throwing Minho’s ex-boyfriend’s shirts at each other, until Felix tackles Changbin down to the grass, both of them laughing too hard to get up.

“You know why I hang out with Changbin and Felix so much, even if they’re downright disgusting in front of me?”

Seungmin shrugs. “Self-hate?”

“Cute, but no.” Minho reaches out and tweaks Seungmin’s earlobe. “They remind me of home. And the last time I remember being happy.”

Seungmin gets up to pour himself a glass of water. “Is that also why you keep hanging out with me?”

Minho’s mouth curls into a smirk. “ _You_ keep hanging out with _me_ , Seungmin.”

Seungmin frowns, stopping himself just before the water overflows from his glass. “I just don’t know anyone else around here-”

“You literally live with the other two interns.”

“Well,” Seungmin says, feeling his ears burn. “Maybe I _also_ don’t want to bother getting to know new people.”

“You think I don’t try meeting new people? Where do you think I picked up Yunho?”

“A dumpster?” Seungmin offers.

Minho laughs as he tips the beef stew into a waiting bowl. He grabs another bowl of rice from the microwave and places them both down in front of Seungmin. “Where do you suggest I go looking for new boyfriends, O Wise And Perpetually Single One?”

“I told you, that’s my choice,” Seungmin rolls his eyes as he tips the beef stew on top of the rice, mixing them together with a spoon. “But if I _did_ want to date someone, it would be someone that I already know well. So I know what I like about them, and what I don’t like about them, and I can actually decide if I like them more than I dislike them-”

Minho feigns a yawn.

“Bitch,” Seungmin laughs, taking a bite of beef-and-rice mixture. “Oh, this is good.”

“I made it.” Minho says, leaning across the island with a spoon of hsis own to take a bite. “Told you, I’m boyfriend material.”

“I never disagreed with you.” Seungmin takes another bite. “Why, what do you think about when you date someone?”

“I don’t think,” Minho says. “I flirt until they’re annoyed or they kiss me.”

Seungmin shakes his head. “Pretty sure everyone’s annoyed with the way you flirt.”

“They still kiss me, though.” Minho shrugs, leaning across the counter with a shit-eating grin. “Every time.”

They exchange a glance that lasts too long for anyone’s good.

Minho closes his eyes as he clears the last few inches of space between them, gently pressing his lips to Seungmin’s. Seungmin closes his eyes, too, his skin tingling from the taste of Minho’s breath mixing with his own.

Seungmin’s only ever kissed on other person in his entire life, but he knows, for a fact, that Minho’s a good kisser. He knows it’s good, but for some reason, he doesn’t know if he’s into it. He tries not to flinch when Minho cradles Seungmin’s face in his hands, or when Minho goes around the end of the island to press himself up against Seungmin.

“Holy fucking shit.” Felix gasps.

Seungmin stumbles backward off his stool, licking his wet lips self-consciously. Minho turns and picks up his carton of coconut water, chugging it for all he’s worth.

“Sorry,” Changbin says, taking Felix by the arm to try to pull him back out of the kitchen.

“Since when were you two-?” Felix asks, while Changbin’s dragging him away.

“Come on, Felix, just leave them alone. We’ll be in the TV room if you need us.”

“Sure.” Minho replies.

Seungmin takes a deep breath. His heart is pounding in his chest. His headache is back. His heartbeat’s echoing on his lips, which still have that weird taste of someone else’s mouth. He’s feeling a lot of things, but at the same time he doesn’t know what he’s feeling.

“Sorry about that.” Minho says, resting a hand on his forehead like he’s checking himself for a fever. “It’s like I go on autopilot when I’m around hot guys and-”

“Do you think it’ll work?”

Minho frowns at Seungmin. “Pardon?”

“Your stupid plan to make Hyunjin jealous.” Seungmin says. “Do you think it’ll actually work?”

“Okay, let’s get this straight,” Minho says, lays a hand flat on the kitchen counter. “Do you want to make out with me or do you want to make Hyunjin jealous?”

Seungmin taps his finger on the side of his bowl for a while.

“I don’t know.” Seungmin answers honestly. “But the thing about your horrible plan, Minho, is that it’ll do both.”

Minho’s mouth goes dry. “Come here.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Seungmin sighs, walking up to Minho.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this, either.”

_A few days later_

Hyunjin perches on the edge of the one of the plant boxes in the Math building. He’d woken up early that morning, probably the first time he hadn’t needed to go through ten alarms.

_Seungmin’s spoiled me,_ Hyunjin thinks as he pulls out his phone to check his feeds. _Well, maybe I needed to learn how to wake up on my own, without him._

_I won’t always have Seungmin. He’s going to go and become a famous, successful person and I’m just going to…_

Hyunjin frowns at his phone screen. It’s a bit dim for the natural light streaming into the building, so he raises the screen bright brightness a little bit.

It seems to be a post from Minho – Hyunjin doesn’t even remember following Minho, they were never close in high school. _Oh he’s got a new boyfriend,_ Hyunjin guesses from the caption, frowning at the blurry video clip. Ever since he’s had to downgrade his data plan (for milk tea), he’s just been playing a guessing game with the grainy videos on his feed.

“Hey dude,” Jisung says, sitting on the ledge next to Hyunjin. His feet dangle just a hair’s breadth off the floor, and he swings them while he unwraps an egg salad sandwich. “You’re early today.”

“I woke up before my alarm,” Hyunjin beams at him, before going back to squinting at his phone.

“Congrats!” Jisung sighs suddenly. “My alarm is my mom waking me up to pray every morning.”

Hyunjin yelps suddenly, dropping his phone onto the tiled floor.

“It’s not _that_ scary,” Jisung frowns. “It’s actually just annoying.”

“No, no, no,” Hyunjin shakes his head, scrambling to pick his phone up. “No, Jisung, _look_!”

Jisung squints at Hyunjin’s phone screen. “What’s this, Minecraft?”

“No!” Hyunjin taps the video. A little bubble lets them know that Seungmin’s been tagged in the video. “Seungmin and Minho are… I don’t know! They’re- _That_!”

Jisung scoffs, flecking a few crumbs out of his mouth. “No way.”

“They’re- Seungmin doesn’t even like being _touched_ and he’s-” Hyunjin’s face turns a little green. “You have to ask Seungmin for permission to _hold his hand_! How the heck did Lee Minho-”

“You underestimate how sexy Lee Minho is.” Jisung says, with a thoughtful bite of his sandwich.

“B- But this is _Seungmin_! He’s not like you! No offense!” Hyunjin runs a hand agitatedly through his shoulder-length hair. “Seungmin is- He’s not- He doesn’t like that kind of stuff! He doesn’t even like _boys_!”

“Oh shit.” Jisung wraps his sandwich up quickly. “Uh, Wicked Witch of the West at 9 o’clock.”

“Wha-” Hyunjin whirls around, but then a sharp clack of mid-heeled sandals catches his attention.

“Put your arm around me.” Jisung hisses.

Hyunjin drapes an arm around Jisung’s shoulders.

“Get closer!” Jisung hisses, as the clacking comes closer.

“You smell like _egg_!”

“I’m eating egg, genius!”

“Shh, she might hear us!”

Hyunjin pretends to continue scrolling down his feed with one hand, playing aimlessly with the drawstring of Jisung’s hoodie.

The mid-heeled sandals come to a stop in front of them.

“Morning, Hyunjin,” Bomi says, with a warm smile. Her smile turns to ice when she turns to Jisung. “ _Jisung_.” She says, like it’s a curse word.

“Hi Bomi.” Hyunjin nods politely.

“You two are early today,” Bomi says, sitting on the ledge on Hyunjin’s other side. She starts going through her purse, crossing her legs as she does so. “Have you had breakfast?”

“No.” Hyunjin says.

“We’re sharing breakfast.” Jisung says, unwrapping his sandwich. He scrunches his face up in a sweet eye smile. “Say, _aah_ , baby.”

Hyunjin turns his face so Bomi can’t see how hard he’s glaring at Jisung. He mouths, ‘I hate egg salad.’

“Oh come on, baby, you’re going to get _hungwy_ later if you don’t eat,” Jisung pouts, jabbing the half-eaten sandwich towards Hyunjin’s mouth.

Hyunjin opens his mouth and gingerly, with just the edges of his front teeth, grazes the edge of the sandwich before closing his mouth and pretending to chew.

“Aw, baby, eat some more,” Jisung says tensely.

Hyunjin shuts his eyes and, after taking a quick breath, yanks a piece of the sandwich off with his teeth, barely chewing the mouthful before forcing it down his throat with a loud gulp.

He checks on Bomi out of the corner of his eyes.

She’s just humming a song while opening a plastic container. “I baked cookies yesterday, Hyunjin, do you want some?”

Hyunjin takes another breath. He wants cookies. His mouth tastes like egg salad and he wants to die.

“Cookies are _not_ breakfast, lady,” Jisung frowns at Bomi.

“I wasn’t asking _you_.” Bomi frowns at Jisung. She smiles up at Hyunjin again. “It’s the same recipe as the ones we’d make…”

She doesn’t finish the sentence, letting it trail off in that cute way that Hyunjin used to like so much. But he knows the rest of this sentence, and it’s making his face warm.

But then Hyunjin’s mind wanders, and he’s not thinking about Bomi anymore. _What would Seungmin be like in bed? He doesn’t even like being touched._

_How could Minho-_

“Are you okay, Hyunjin?” Bomi asks, gently pressing the back of her hand to Hyunjin’s forehead. “You’re getting kinda hot.”

“He’s always hot.” Jisung snaps, pulling Hyunjin away from her by the arm around his shoulders.

Bomi’s smile doesn’t falter, but she narrows her eyes at Jisung. “Oh, I know _that_. I know everything about Hyunjin, don’t I, Hyunjin?”

“Pretty sure I know more about Hyunjin.” Jisung says. “I’ve known him since kindergarten. How long have you known him, like, five minutes?

“It doesn’t matter how long you’ve known someone,” Bomi says, resting a hand on Hyunjin’s knee. “If you don’t know them _well._ ”

Hyunjin swallows. He’s not listening. _How could Seungmin let Minho hold him_ like that _?_

_That’s not like Seungmin at all._

_Or maybe I just don’t know Seungmin that well._

Jisung reaches across Hyunjin’s lap to swat Bomi’s hand away. “Hands off my boyfriend.”

“Oh come on.” Bomi rolls her eyes. “No way is he your boyfriend.”

Jisung gasps. “How dare you even _suggest_ -”

“You suck at pretending.” Bomi says. “And there’s no way anyone got past Seungmin. Least of all someone like you.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about?” Jisung scoffs.

“Why do you think Hyunjin and I broke up?” Bomi rolls her eyes. “Look, he’s not even listening to us right now.”

Hyunjin chews on his lip. He turns to Bomi with a frown. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Nothing, Hyunjinnie.” Bomi smiles sweetly. “Do you have lunch plans today?”

“No.”

“Yes.” Jisung cuts in, physically leaning into the space between them, “Hyunjin and I are going to have crazy loud sex in the athlete’s dorm because we’re both allowed in there but you’re a girl and-”

“You think I haven’t been in there?” Bomi scoffs. “The security guard knew me by name.”

“What name is that? ‘ _Ugly bitch’_?”

Bomi opens her mouth to say something, but her alarm for her first class goes off. She pats Hyunjin briefly on the cheek, before Jisung snarls at her like a feral animal. “I’ll see you around, Hyunjin. I miss hanging out with you.”

Hyunjin looks up at her, brows furrowed in deep confusion. “What?”

“Go to class, lady.” Jisung shoos her away with both hands, before wrapping both arms around Hyunjin. “He’s mine.”

“No, he isn’t.” Bomi laughs as she walks off. “You’re not Seungmin.”

Seungmin looks up at Yaebin expectantly. “Is that right?”

“Perfect.” Yaebin says bitterly. “You sure you haven’t done this before?”

“Never.” Seungmin shakes his head.

“Still waiting for you to say sike,” Yaebin turns to Arin with a sympathetic smile. “Your turn, Arin. Fuck up a little for my pride, could you?”

“I don’t need to do that on purpose.” Arin grins, picking up a pipettor. Her hands immediately start shaking, even though she’s using her free hand to try to hold her hand steady.

“What do you do in your free time, Seungmin?” Yaebin asks, leaning on the edge of the lab bench. “Brain surgery?”

“I play baseball.”

“Oh please, I ‘play baseball’ too.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “He’s one of the star players in the league.”

One of the grad students walks over waving a phone that’s buzzing like a bee on cocaine. “Is this any of yours?”

Donghyuck looks up. “No, we’re not- Oh, Seungmin, is that yours?”

Seungmin sits up. “Yes, sorry.”

He starts peeling his gloves off to take the phone from the grad student.

“It’s probably one of his dates.” Donghyuck says.

“He’s got one, like every half day.” Arin agrees, before lapsing into a focused silence while she pipets.

“Damn, Seungmin, leave _something_ for the rest of us.” Yaebin laughs.

“I’m really not-” Seungmin chuckles, before looking at the caller ID. He frowns. “Excuse me, I’ll just take this outside.”

Seungmin ignores the other two interns snickering about something with Yaebin, probably about him. He walks quickly down the hallway, pushing the door to the second-floor balcony open.

Only to bump right into Minho.

“Sorry.” Minho drops the cigarette he was holding, stomping it under one sneaker.

Seungmin frowns at him. “I thought you quit-”

“That’s none of your business.” Minho snaps, brushing past him. “You’re not my real boyfriend.”

“Minho!” Seungmin calls after him, holding the door open with one shoulder. He’s about to call out to Minho another time when the phone in his hands starts buzzing again.

Seungmin sighs and picks up as he steps out onto the balcony. “Hi, sorry, it’s kind of a bad time-”

“A _bad time_? Excuse you, I am your _sister_!” Jimin yells, right into Seungmin’s ear, so it seems. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, posting slutty shit on Instagram without telling me?”

Seungmin swallows. “Noona, I can explain-”

“Oh, really? Go ahead! Because if I have to revise this guest list one more time, I am going to lose my goddamn mind-”

“Noona, you don’t have to invite him.” Seungmin rubs his temples. “It’s not… We’re just messing around, we’re not serious.”

“Oh, good.” Jimin lets out a sigh of relief. Then she starts screaming again. “HOLD ON! YOU’RE NOT SERIOUS? WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY BABY BROTHER???”


	6. You play games with me, but I like it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⚠ Unsexy sexual content warning ⚠
> 
> ⚠ Pls skip if ur not comfortable ⚠
> 
> ⚠ The plot's not worth it to make u uncomfortable ⚠

_Almost a year ago_

“This is my boyfriend, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin smiles at Bomi’s dad. Then he decides to bow. Then he straightens up again, unsure of what he ought to do.

“I know Park Hyunjin.” Bomi’s dad laughs. He grins at Hyunjin. “We fought tooth and nail to get you on the team, son.”

Hyunjin blinks at him blankly. “P- Pardon?”

Bomi rolls her eyes. “Dad’s president of the alumni association. They meddle in all the sports stuff.”

“We should go watch their games together,” Bomi’s dad says. “You should see this boy pitch, he’s like-”

“Honey, can you help me take this out of the oven?” Bomi’s mom calls from the kitchen.

Bomi’s dad scrunches his nose. “Duty calls.”

“Come on.” Bomi says, taking Hyunjin by the wrist. “We’ve got like half an hour before dinner.”

“Where are we-” Hyunjin asks, stumbling after Bomi up the stairs.

Hyunjin’s never been in a girl’s room before, so he’s not sure what to expect. But Bomi’s room is just big, white, and very neat, almost as neat as Seungmin’s. The only difference is that her corkboard on the wall has less pictures on it, and most of them seem to be of her.

“Please ignore those,” Bomi reaches over and starts taking the pictures down, her face flushing red to her ears. “I was a very fat kid.”

“No, I think you were cute.” Hyunjin laughs.

“You don’t have to be nice about it, I looked like bread. Like a loaf of bread.” Bomi stuffs the photos under a stack of books on the desk. “Goodbye, Fat Bomi.”

Hyunjin smiles at the idea. _Bomi still kind of looks like bread now. Very soft and cute._

“Anyway,” Bomi says, brushing her hands off on her skirt. “Um…”

Hyunjin raises both eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“What do you want to…” Bomi says, very voice trailing off into a little hum that makes Hyunjin smile.

“We can watch a movie?” Hyunjin suggests. Then he frowns. “Oh, but we don’t have enough time before dinner.”

“I was thinking more of…” Bomi scratches at one of her pastel pink nails.

“Don’t,” Hyunjin gently pries her hands apart. He likes the little blue polka dots on her nails, and he knows how much trouble she must’ve gone through to paint them.

Bomi looks up at Hyunjin, her eyes wide.

Hyunjin blinks at her. “Bomi-”

She tiptoes to kiss him, cradling his face in her hands. He’s worried she’ll slip, since she’s wearing socks on hardwood flooring, so he holds her by the shoulders to steady her.

Hyunjin also feels like it would be rude not to kiss her back, so he does. With a little tongue, for good measure.

Bomi rests her hands on Hyunjin’s shoulders guiding backward until the backs of his knees hit the bed.

Bomi pulls out of their kiss. “Hyunjinnie, do you want to…”

Hyunjin thinks about it. He thinks about it for so long that he gets embarrassed, because Bomi’s starting to look embarrassed.

“It’s also okay if you don’t want to.” Bomi says.

“No, no, I want to,” Hyunjin says.

Bomi breaks into a smile so bright that Hyunjin has no choice but to smile, too. Then she starts unbuttoning her dress. Hyunjin stumbles back onto the bed, trying to not frown as he watches her.

“Are you not going to take your clothes off?” Bomi asks, hooking the strap of one bra with one finger.

“Oh, uh, yeah, right.” Hyunjin starts unbuttoning his own shirt. He shimmies out of his jeans before sitting on the bed again. “Sorry.”

He swallows when Bomi slips her bra off, dropping it somewhere on the floor. Hyunjin wishes she would hang it somewhere instead. _It might be hard to find later if she just throws it around everywhere._

“You’re so sexy, Hyunjin,” Bomi says, climbing into his lap.

“Thanks, you too.” Hyunjin says, gingerly placing his hands on her waist. Her skin is so soft under his fingers that he feels a little bit guilty for touching her, he doesn’t know why.

“Have you ever done this before?” Bomi breathes against the column of Hyunjin’s neck.

Hyunjin bites his lip to stop himself from laughing, because it tickles. “What?”

“Have you had sex before?”

“Uh… kinda?”

_Present_

Hyunjin jolts awake. He’s sweated through his pajamas to his sheets, and his dick is embarrassingly hard. His first instinct is to peek over at Seungmin’s bed, just to be sure Seungmin doesn’t see anything.

Then he remembers that Seungmin’s in a dorm somewhere in Seoul, and he’s alone in the room.

Hyunjin looks down at the bump in his pants.

Then he looks across the space, really just an arm’s length of space to Seungmin’s bed. Some mornings, Seungmin would reach across the space with his foot and kick Hyunjin to wake him up. _Never hard, of course._

Hyunjin looks down at the bump in his pants again.

His hand makes a motion towards it, but he stops himself. _Don’t be gross. This is Seungmin’s room, too._

Hyunjin gets up and peels off his pajamas, heading straight for the shower, and turning the knob as cold as it could go on a summer morning.

_Six months ago_

Bomi rests her head against Hyunjin’s shoulder.

Hyunjin looks down at her, smiling.

“What’re you looking at?” Bomi asks.

“Nothing.”

Bomi laughs and nudges Hyunjin lightly in the ribs. “You’re so silly.”

“I know, Seungmin always calls me that- Oh crap!” Hyunjin sits up suddenly, making Bomi slide down the couch. “Seungmin!”

Bomi’s eyes widen in alarm. “Why? What’s with Seungmin?”

“He’s injured but he went to the library to study and I don’t want him to go home on his own.” Hyunjin says as he unlocks his phone.

Bomi smiles and cranes her neck to peck Hyunjin on the cheek. “Aw, you’re so sweet, Hyunjinnie.”

“No, I’d do that for any of my friends,” Hyunjin says as he quickly types out a text to Seungmin.

Bomi wraps her arms around him, kissing him on the cheek again. “No, you’re the sweetest.”

“But I have to go get him,” Hyunjin pouts. “I’ll try to hurry back so we can-”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Bomi says, kissing Hyunjin briefly on the lips. “We can just finish this movie some other time. Go help your friend.”

“Thanks, Bomi,” Hyunjin beams. He climbs off the couch, thinks twice, then leans over and kisses her again before running out of the room.

_Present_

Hyunjin’s running the hair dryer through his damp hair, frowning at his reflection. _What does Lee Minho have that I don’t?_

_Well, he’s smarter than me. Way smarter than me._

_Maybe that’s it._

_Seungmin doesn’t not like boys, he just doesn’t like_ me _because I’m stupid._

Hyunjin looks at the sad-looking, damp Hyunjin in the mirror and sighs.

_Maybe I’m just too stupid for Seungmin._

_Six months ago_

Hyunjin sees a small figure walking out of the university library. He breaks into a sprint, running the last stretch of sidewalk to the library building.

Seungmin purses his lips when he sees Hyunjin. “I told you, I’m fine. I can go home on my own.”

“But you’re injured.” Hyunjin pouts. “You might need my help.”

Seungmin stares at him for a long time. Then he breaks into a smile. “Hyunjin… I sprained my shoulder. I can still walk.”

Hyunjin chews on his bottom lip. “But what about if you have to stand in the bus and hold the thingy?”

“I can use my other arm?” Seungmin suggests.

“Oh.”

“Don’t you have a date today?” Seungmin asks, hitching his backpack higher up his healthy shoulder.

“Oh, yeah, I just came from there.”

“It’s finished?” Seungmin checks his watch. “Already?”

“No, I just told her I had to go bring you home-”

Seungmin starts laughing. “If you don’t want to go out with Bomi, Hyunjin, just break up with her.”

“No, I like her.” Hyunjin says. “A lot.”

“Okay, okay, I was kidding.” Seungmin takes a deep breath as they start walking away from the bright library lights. “I’m glad you like her a lot.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say to that.

“She’s not mad about you leaving in the middle of your date?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“I would’ve been pissed.” Seungmin says, smiling at Hyunjin.

Hyunjin’s heart skips a beat. “Why?”

Seungmin shrugs.

Hyunjin doesn’t know what to do, so he asks, “Do you want me to carry your bag for you?”

“I’m really not-”

“I’m going to touch you now, okay?”

Seungmin sighs. “Okay.”

Hyunjin gently slides Seungmin’s backpack off his good shoulder and slips it onto his own. “We can’t have the star player getting more injured.”

Seungmin laughs, flicking Hyunjin on the arm. “ _You’re_ the star player of the team, silly.”

_Present_

Hyunjin walks into the lobby of the Math building to find Bomi sitting the ledge he usually sits on, and not a single Han Jisung in sight. _Shit_.

Bomi looks up, seeming surprised to see him. “Oh, hi Hyunjin. Where’s Jisung?”

Hyunjin hesitates, but he finds himself sitting on the ledge next to her, but an arm’s length away. “Don’t know. Maybe he’s sick.”

“If you’re pretending to date someone,” Bomi whispers. “You should probably pretend to know when they’re sick.”

“Oh, sorry.” Hyunjin shakes his head like it’s waterlogged. “I mean, no I’m not pretending to do anything. I like Jisung, a lot.”

“I don’t doubt that. You like everyone.” Bomi takes a sip from a pure white tumbler. She lifts an eyebrow. “So what’s the game you’re playing? Are you trying to make… _someone_ jealous?”

“No.” Hyunjin frowns at her. “That’s so mean, why would anyone do that?”

Bomi takes another sip of coffee.

“Of course _you_ wouldn’t.” She sighs.

_Three months ago_

“Your dorm’s not far from here.”

Hyunjin’s eyes bug out at Bomi. “M- My _dorm_? Girls aren’t allowed in there!”

Bomi pouts up at him. “But I need you, Hyunjin. _Now_.”

“Uh…”

“We haven’t _been together_ in so long,” Bomi says, resting a hand on Hyunjin’s chest while they walk. “I mean, I know you’re busy with the baseball and school and stuff, but can’t you be busy with your girlfriend, too?”

Hyunjin wets his lips nervously.

“I’m still your girlfriend, right?”

Hyunjin nods enthusiastically. “Of course you are, Bomi… I’m sorry I’ve just been really busy lately.”

“It’s okay, I don’t want to add to your stress,” Bomi runs her hand down Hyunjin’s chest, letting her nails drag over the buttons of his shirt. “I can take the stress away.”

“I… um… I don’t want to be hard in public, Bomi.”

Bomi laughs. “Then let’s go to your dorm.”

“But Seungmin-”

“Of course, _Seungmin_.” Bomi’s smile falters. “Seungmin isn’t there, is he?”

“No, he’s in class, but-”

“Then let’s go.” Bomi twines her hand with Hyunjin’s. “He’ll never know.”

Seungmin opens the door to the dorm room, immediately frowning. “What’s that smell?”

“Febreze.” Hyunjin answers as innocently as he can, not looking up from the paper he’s writing on his laptop.

Seungmin walks in and lowers his bag gently on his chair, using one hand to wave away the Febreze that seems to hang in the air like smog. “You changed your sheets.”

“They were getting smelly.”

“You just changed them yesterday.”

A bead of perspiration trickles down the side of Hyunjin’s face. “I’m very smelly.”

“Uh, no you’re not?” Seungmin says. He sheds his jacket and sits on the edge of his bed. “You don’t even smell bad when you- What’s this?”

Hyunjin doesn’t turn around.

“What?” He asks, trying to lean back casually in his seat.

Seungmin doesn’t say anything, but Hyunjin hears something scuff across the floor like he’d kicked it.

Hyunjin looks down at the patch of floor next to his seat to find something white and lacy. _Underwear?_ His eyes widen. _Wait, was Bomi even wearing white-_

“Park Hyunjin.” Seungmin says, his voice dropping so low it makes Hyunjin freeze in place.

_How the hell did she go home_ without _underwear???_

“I don’t care what you do with Bomi, that’s your business.” Seungmin says, picking up his jacket. “But keep it out of _my_ room.”

Hyunjin watches Seungmin starts putting on his boots in concern. “Where are you going?”

“I don’t know.” Seungmin grumbles.

“Wait, Seungmin, it’s late-”

“I don’t care.”

“Seungmin, please, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” Hyunjin reaches out, but he stops his hand an inch away from Seungmin’s arm. “I’m sorry, Seungmin.”

Seungmin glares at him. Then he looks down at Hyunjin’s hand, hovering just an inch away from holding him back.

Hyunjin draws his hand back to his side. “Please, Seungmin, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to do that to you.”

Seungmin closes his eyes. “No, of course _you_ didn’t.”

_Present_

Hyunjin frowns up at the dark gray sky. The rain is pouring in sheets.

“Don’t have an umbrella?” Bomi asks.

“No, I always forget to bring one.”

“But Seungmin doesn’t.” Bomi says, pursing her lips. She reaches into her bag and pulls out a small automatic umbrella, waving it in front of Hyunjin. “Walk me to my car, I’ll give you a lift.”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “I don’t think that would be appropriate.”

“I’m not going to jump you, Hyunjin.” Bomi sighs. “I’m honestly ashamed that you would even think that.”

“No, I don’t think that,” Hyunjin says. When Bomi gives him an incredulous stare, he sighs, too. “Okay, maybe I’m a little scared. But won’t it be awkward if we’re together? Like alone?”

Bomi laughs. “It’s too bad Jisung isn’t here. He makes _everythin_ g better.”

Hyunjin laughs, too, as he takes the umbrella from Bomi. He opens it and holds it a bit lower than he normally would, and tilted over Bomi so she doesn’t get wet.

“What about Seungmin?” Bomi asks, walking carefully to avoid dipping her white sandals in any puddles. “Did he go home for the summer?”

She looks up at Hyunjin, her eyes wide in disbelief.

“No, he’s doing an internship in Seoul. He’s studying cancer.”

Bomi snorts. “Of course he is. It was either that or ending world hunger.”

“What?”

“Only something that fucking grave would get him away from you.” Bomi huffs, digging around her purse for her keys when her car comes in sight.

Hyunjin purses his lips, not saying anything as he walks Bomi around to the driver’s side of the car. He closes the door after her, then walks around to the passenger’s side.

He stands there, the edges of his jeans getting kind of damp from the rain, while he thinks about it for a minute. _Maybe I shouldn’t get a ride from my ex-girlfriend. It just doesn’t sound right._

Bomi knocks on the glass, grinning up at him like, _What are you waiting for?_

Hyunjin opens the door and climbs in.


	7. Sometimes your smile flickers before my eyes

_Two years ago_

Seungmin opens the door.

Hyunjin tiptoes to peek over Seungmin’s shoulder. “It’s small.”

Seungmin snorts at him. “It’s a dorm room.”

“Still, it’s a bit _cute_ for two grown guys.” Hyunjin says, as they pull their luggage into the room. Their suitcases alone take up almost all the space between the two beds, leaving them no choice but to stand squeezed next to each other by the door.

“At least we know each other.” Seungmin says. He shudders at the idea of having to share a space this small with a _stranger_.

The door to the dorm flies open behind them. Seungmin and Hyunjin squirm out of the way.

Hyunjin’s older brother stands in the doorway, looking all over the room with the thoroughness of a health inspector. Or an exterminator. “It looks clean.”

Jinyoung opens the door to the bathroom and peeks in. Hyunjin and Seungmin peek in, crouched below him. In the tight space, the shower head points straight into the toilet’s waiting mouth.

“Well, at least it’s not communal.” Jinyoung says, leaning back out of the bathroom. “You’ll only have to fight each other.”

Hyunjin laughs. “We won’t fight each other, hyung.”

Jinyoung pinches his cheek. “You haven’t tried living together.”

Seungmin makes a face. There’s a streetlamp near their dorm window, and it casts a really bright light into the dorm room that’s keeping him from sleeping. Seungmin makes a mental note to buy thicker curtains the next time he has time.

He rolls onto his side, facing the wall, but it smells like it’s just been repainted recently, and it’s tickling Seungmin’s nose.

Seungmin rolls onto his other side. But the yellowish light from outside falls on Hyunjin’s face as gently as light rain, giving him this strange glow that’s only enhanced by Seungmin’s bad eyesight. Even without his glasses, he can see the calm, self-pleased smile that Hyunjin’s lips seem to default to.

Seungmin finds himself watching the rise and fall of Hyunjin’s chest and listening to the slightly wet-sounding snores from Hyunjin’s side of the room, until he finds his own breathing slowing down.

The streetlamp is still there, and it’s practically blinding to Seungmin, who’s used to having blackout curtains back home, but he finds himself drifting off to sleep just as Hyunjin starts murmuring to himself.

_Present_

“Hey,” Seungmin says, closing the door to the fluorescent microscope room behind him. The room’s pitch dark, save for the faint green glow from the microscope lamp, and the dim monitor Minho’s silhouetted against. “Minho.”

“I’m busy, save your horniness and/or pity for later, thanks,” Minho says, adjusting the microscope knob with one hand while keeping an eye on the video feed on the monitor.

“They sent me up here to tell you to go home.”

“I’ll go home when I’m finished.”

“You’ll never be finished, because you keep thinking of new things to do.”

“Welcome to my life,” Minho grins, never once looking away from the monitor. He hits a key to take a screenshot. “Work, school, work, sch – Oh wait, it’s summer, so it’s just work, work, work.”

Seungmin sits on the chair next to Minho’s. “It’s okay if you’re sad about dumping your frat boy ex, really.”

Minho laughs. “Why, is too heartless of me to really not give a fuck? Because I don’t. He didn’t love me, why would I miss him?”

Seungmin folds his arms. “Well, then, it’s okay to miss someone who did.”

Minho takes his hand off the microscope’s adjustment knob, glaring at Seungmin. “You don’t have the right to act all wise around me when the guy you like is going around fucking literally everyone except you.”

Seungmin’s fingers curl into fists, involuntarily.

“Including the guy _you_ like?” Seungmin asks.

Minho groans, burying his face in his hands. “Seungmin, I usually like your company, but you’re pissing me off right now, so can you please leave?”

“Give me your cigarettes.”

“Don’t start smoking, Seungmin, you have to live forever and continue whatever work I don’t finish,” Minho grumbles.

“I’m not going to.” Seungmin says. “Smoke them, I mean.”

“Then don’t think you’re doing me a favor by flushing them down the toilet or whatever, because I already paid for those.”

“Well then,” Seungmin folds his arms. “I won’t kiss you again until you stop smoking.”

Minho hesitates with his hand on one of the microscope’s knobs. Then he starts laughing, clutching his stomach and doubling over like Seungmin’s just made the joke of the century.

Seungmin frowns at him. He knows how unfunny he is. He doubts he’d be able to make the joke of decade, or even the joke of the hour.

“Okay, you’re going insane, time to stop working,” Seungmin says, pulling Minho’s chair away from the computer.

“That’s-” Minho wipes a tear from one eye. “That’s what Jisung said.”

“What?”

“He told me to stop smoking, because he’s asthmatic. So I promised not to smoke around him,” Minho says, still rubbing tears off on his sweater sleeve. “And then he said that even the _taste_ of cigarettes would trigger his asthma.”

“You didn’t believe him, did you?”

“Of course not! I’m not a fucking idiot!” Minho bends over, hanging his head between his knees. “But I stopped anyway. Because I wanted to keep kissing him.”

“That’s nice, but I didn’t need to know-”

“It feels nice to kiss someone, no matter who you’re kissing. It was even nice kissing you, even though you’re shit at it.” Minho says, smiling somewhat when Seungmin scowls at him. “But you know, right? The feeling when you’re kissing someone you love. You feel like you’re holding something breakable. It’s like you’re feeling more than just whatever it feels like.”

“Someone’s getting overly poetic.” Seungmin kicks the leg of Minho’s chair. “Are you drunk?”

“No.” Minho looks at Seungmin, his eyes glinting in the green light from the microscope. “But you know what I’m talking about, right?”

“No.” Seungmin looks away. “You’re not making any sense-”

“Have you ever kissed Hyunjin?”

“Yes.” Seungmin gets up and starts for the door. “I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

Minho reaches over and switches the fluorescent lamp off. Then he starts laughing, and he doesn’t stop even when the door closes behind Seungmin.

_One year ago_

“They’re good kids, dude,” the captain of the baseball team says, embracing Hyunjin and Seungmin in either arm. “They don’t do parties.”

Their other teammate just stares. “But we just won the motherfucking national-”

“Oh, is there a party?” Hyunjin asks.

“For the team?” Seungmin asks.

“Tonight, yeah,” The captain says. “But you guys don’t have to go! If you don’t want to.”

Hyunjin and Seungmin exchange glances. As two of the youngest members of the university’s Team A, they didn’t know their teammates very well.

Not that they’d tried very hard to.

“Do you wanna go?” Hyunjin asks Seungmin.

“It’s okay, I guess.” Seungmin shrugs. He nods at the captain. “We’ll go.”

The captain looks just a little bit troubled. “Oh. Yay.”

“AAAAAAYE! THAT’S MY BOY!” Their other teammate says, jumping and hugging Hyunjin. He throws the door to the locker room open. “HEY GUYS! THE KIDS ARE COMING TO THE PARTY LATER!!!”

“This is _not_ just the baseball team.” Seungmin says, but he’s not sure Hyunjin hears him above the music blasting through the dim room. Even in the low light, Seungmin has the distinct feeling that most of these people are way older than university students.

Seungmin looks down to find a finger tapping the top of his hand.

Hyunjin looks at him. _Can I?_

Seungmin flexes his hand, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease up just a little bit when Hyunjin twines their fingers together.

“Hey, kiddos!” One of their teammates says, coming up behind them dragging a few crates of beer. “Can you guys help me bring these to the kitchen?”

“Okay.” Hyunjin lets go of Seungmin’s hand to take one of the crates.

Seungmin flexes his hand again. It feels colder.

“Hey, Hyunjin, can you get this one?” Their teammate says, holding a crate out to Seungmin.

“I’m Seungmin.” Seungmin says quietly, taking the crate.

“Thanks, dude!” Their teammate says, right before stopping a woman passing by. “Sooyoung! Hey! Long time no see!”

Hyunjin and Seungmin just stand there with their crates while their teammate squeezes the woman in a tight embrace.

“Um.” Hyunjin clears his throat. “Excuse me, hyung?”

“Oh, right,” Their teammate turns the woman around by the waist. “Sooyoung, these are the freshies on the team, Kim Hyunjin and Park Seungmin.”

“Hi.” Hyunjin says.

Seungmin only nods. Neither of them bothers to correct their upperclassman.

“Aww, they’re so cute,” Sooyoung says, reaching out as if to pinch Seungmin’s cheek.

Seungmin’s eyes widen, but his reflexes seem to be offline.

Hyunjin pulls Seungmin back by the hem of his jacket until he’s just out of the woman’s reach.

Seungmin smiles at him.

The woman doesn’t seem to notice, because the boys’ upperclassman asks her something about someone else they don’t know.

“Oh, hey, you guys are here…” The captain says, frowning at Hyunjin and Seungmin. His frown drags down to the crates of beer the boys are carrying. “Where did you get those?”

“From…” Hyunjin looks for their teammate who’d given them the crates. “Uh…”

“Where’s the kitchen?” Seungmin asks.

“Oh, I’ll show you guys,” The captain says, gently nudging his way through the crowd to clear some space for the two boys. “Excuse me, excuse me…”

Hyunjin and Seungmin’s eyebrows rise almost to the ceiling when the captain leads them into the kitchen. It doesn’t look like a kitchen anymore, but a storehouse filled with alcohol from floor to ceiling.

“Just find some clear space,” The captain says, frowning as he tries to push some boxes of unknown drinks out of the way. “The guys went kinda over-the-top with all the-”

Someone opens the door to the kitchen. “Hey babe, one of the folding tables collapsed.”

“Oh shit.” The captain looks back at Hyunjin and Seungmin. “Uh, just dump those and um, just stick to this first floor and stay out of the basement?”

“Okay.” Hyunjin says.

“What’s in the basement?” Seungmin asks.

“Oh, not anything bad, just-”

“Babe, the table.”

“Yeah.” The captain shoots them an apologetic look. “I’ll see you guys around? Don’t take any drinks from other people. Got it?”

“Okay.” Hyunjin says.

Seungmin nods.

The door to the kitchen swings shut behind the captain.

Seungmin lowers his crate to the floor, then takes Hyunjin’s and stacks it on top. They hear shouting through the other door leading out from the kitchen, and nothing but bass booming through the door the captain left through.

Hyunjin takes a step back, bumping into a box full of bottles that rattle against each other. “Oops.”

Seungmin reaches out to catch Hyunjin by the jacket before he knocks something over.

Then he narrows his eyes at the denim jacket, grinning. “Isn’t this mine?”

Hyunjin blushes. “Maybe.”

“Park Hyunjin, did you wear my jacket to a party because you didn’t wanna mess up your own?”

Hyunjin bites his bottom lip. “Noooo, _my_ denim jacket was in the wash, I swear-”

“You look cute in it,” Seungmin says. “It’s fine.”

“Okay.” Hyunjin rests his hands on his hips, frowning around the room. “How are they going to _drink_ this much? It’s enough for a small army!”

Seungmin laughs.

A loud crash from outside makes Hyunjin jump towards Seungmin.

Seungmin looks down to find Hyunjin’s hand tapping against the top of his. He flexes his hand and twines their fingers together. “You wanna go home?”

Hyunjin squeezes Seungmin’s hand. “Yeah.”

Seungmin looks into Hyunjin’s eyes. “But you want to drink?”

Hyunjin nods, his entire face growing pink. “We can pass by the store on the way to the dorm.”

“Why? The store’s already here,” Seungmin says, gesturing at the boxes around them with his free hand.

“Kim Seungmin! I don’t wanna _steal_ -”

“It’s not stealing, we were invited to this party.” Seungmin says, pulling the nearest box open. “What difference does it make if we drink this here or if we drink it at the dorm?”

Hyunjin slams the door to their dorm room shut behind him. He turns to Seungmin, both of their eyes wide.

Then Seungmin unzips his jacket and pulls out the bottle he’d been barely concealing inside.

They both break out in giggles, laughing so hard they have to sit on the floor.

“I can’t believe you just stole that,” Hyunjin laughs, wiping tears from his eyes. “And I’m an accomplice!”

“Like I said, it’s not stealing, we’re just enjoying the party… from the comforts of our home,” Seungmin says, shedding his jacket and tossing it to the hook by the door. He picks up the bottle and looks it over. “What is this anyway?”

“Tequila,” Hyunjin reaches for their empty coffee mugs on their desks. “It’s like toilet cleaner that’s safe to drink.”

Seungmin makes a face. “And that’s a good thing?”

“It tastes better the more you have.” Hyunjin assures him, unscrewing the top of the tequila bottle.

“You mean, you care less about the taste the drunker you get?” Seungmin asks, watching Hyunjin pour only until a quarter of each mug.

Hyunjin winks at him, raising his mug. “Cheers!”

“Cheers,” Seungmin laughs, tapping his mug against Hyunjin’s.

“Seungmin? Are you still okay?”

Hyunjin sounds like he’s inside a fish tank. _He sounds like a fish._

Seungmin smiles, raising one thumb up.

“Aw, okay, let’s stop.” Hyunjin says, screwing the cover onto the bottle again.

Seungmin places his hand on top of Hyunjin’s, shaking his head.

“You want to drink _more_?” Hyunjin asks, raising an eyebrow at Seungmin.

Seungmin nods.

“Okay, a little bit won’t hurt.” Hyunjin says, dividing the last of the tequila between their two mugs. “Oops. Is that a lot?”

Seungmin shakes his head, raising his mug to his lips.

“Hey, wait,” Hyunjin laughs, lowering Seungmin’s mug. “We have to toast first.”

Seungmin nods and taps his mug against Hyunjin’s before proceeding to gulp down more tequila. “Cheers.”

“Cheers, silly.” Hyunjin laughs. “Silly Seungmin.”

Seungmin frowns. “You’re the silly one.”

“No, you’re the silly one now,” Hyunjin says, swirling the tequila in his mug. “Today is your day to be silly, and I’m the smart one. Park Seungmin.”

Seungmin laughs, accidentally tipping some of his drink onto the floor. “Does that make me Kim Hyunjin?”

“Yes.” Hyunjin grins. “You’re Kim Hyunjin today, and I’m Park Seungmin.”

Seungmin laughs so hard he falls onto his back, squinting up at the bright fluorescent lamp above.

“Hey, don’t sleep,” Hyunjin says, crawling over to peer down at Seungmin.

Seungmin giggles. Hyunjin looks funny from this perspective.

“You might break your glasses, silly,” Hyunjin says, sitting next to Seungmin. He reaches out to take Seungmin’s glasses, but stops his hands an inch away. “I’m going to touch you, okay?”

“You don’t have to ask.” Seungmin says.

“Of course I do, you don’t like it.” Hyunjin says, gently lifting Seungmin’s glasses off his face.

“Wear them.” Seungmin says.

Hyunjin pouts. “I’m gonna wreck my eyes.”

“Wear them,” Seungmin whines, sitting up so abruptly he nearly knocks his forehead against Hyunjin’s.

“Fine, fine,” Hyunjin screws his eyes shut and slips Seungmin’s glasses on. “What do I look like?”

Seungmin squints at him, but he’s just a cute, pink mess. “I don’t know, I can’t see without my glasses.”

Hyunjin busts out laughing, leaning on Seungmin for support. “You’re good at being the dumb one.”

Seungmin laughs, too, for a while, but his smile slides into a deep frown. “Wait. You’re not dumb.”

“Sure I am. You always say so.”

Seungmin’s frown grows deeper. “When have I ever-”

“You don’t say it out loud, you just… I know what you mean,” Hyunjin smiles. “Don’t worry, I’m not offended.”

“I never meant that,” Seungmin says. “I don’t think you’re dumb, Hyunjin.”

“But you always say-”

“I don’t think that at all,” Seungmin finds his hand reaching to touch the side of Hyunjin’s face. It’s warm and soft and just a little bit sweaty. Seungmin grazes his thumb across Hyunjin’s cheek. “You’re not good at school, but that’s not important anyway. You’re kind and good and sweet and caring and I-”

“Minnie.” Hyunjin cuts in abruptly, resting his hand on top of Seungmin’s, trying to pry it off as gently as he can. “Minnie, if you’re drunk, maybe-”

Seungmin leans forward. There was never much space in their dorm to begin with. There wasn’t enough space to sit comfortably on the floor between their beds, but there they were anyway, with their empty mugs and empty bottle of tequila. There was never much space between Seungmin and Hyunjin at any given time, even though Hyunjin seemed hell-bent on asking Seungmin every time he was going to close that space.

_I didn’t ask,_ Seungmin realizes. _I didn’t ask for permission._

Hyunjin jumps backward, startled by Seungmin’s lips on his.

“Sorry,” Seungmin mumbles.

“No, I…” Hyunjin slips Seungmin’s glasses off his face and folds them, placing them on the bedside table. “I’m not-”

“I’m sorry.” Seungmin leans back against his bed. “I didn’t mean to.”

“What?”

“I didn’t mean to do that. I think I’m drunk.” Seungmin says, standing up. He doesn’t look down at Hyunjin, but he can feel Hyunjin gazing up at him with his eyes wide in confusion.

“Seungmin-”

“We should sleep.”

“Oh.” Hyunjin nods slowly. “Okay.”

Seungmin wakes up the next morning with the sun hot on his face. He frowns, reaching for his phone on the bedside table. He can hardly look at it; His head is pounding.

_Oh. Right._ Seungmin fumbles for his glasses, slipping them on. They’re a little bit sweatier than he’s used to, and he remembers why. He ignores that and checks the time on his phone.

> _Sunday, 11:58 AM._

Seungmin groans. He hates sleeping till noon, but the throbbing in his head isn’t letting him even sit up at the moment.

He hears a rustle in the bed just an arm’s length away.

Seungmin drops his phone beside him and closes his eyes, pretending to be asleep. Then he remembers he’s got his glasses on, and there’s no point.

“Seungmin?” Hyunjin mumbles. It’s so almost-unintelligible that Seungmin can’t tell if he’s actually awake.

“Yeah?”

“I’m hungry.”

Seungmin sucks on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling. “We haven’t had breakfast.”

Hyunjin yawns, stretching until his feet peek out from under his blanket. “Did we even have dinner?”

“I don’t…” Seungmin swallows. He casts a quick glance in Hyunjin’s direction, but he feels his ears heating up so much that he has to look away. “I don’t really remember. What did we do last night?”

“Uh… we drank that tequila we stole… and played a few card games,” Hyunjin starts slowly, like he’s tiptoeing around his words.

“And then?”

“And then when we got bored of the cards, we drank some more…” Hyunjin says, doing that little dance with his words.

“That’s it?” Seungmin asks, holding his breath.

“…That’s it.” Hyunjin says firmly.

Seungmin sighs.


	8. You’re too much

Jisung’s phone is on vibrate.

He knows this for sure, because it’s been vibrating like it’s trying to jump out of his pocket for the past two minutes or so. Which wouldn’t have been a problem, if he hadn’t been kneeling right in the middle of an echo-ey chapel, surrounded by his mom’s bible study group.

Eighteen pairs of eyes that had been closed in reverent prayer are now trained on him, frowning in various shades of disapproval.

“Uh, hehe,” Jisung’s voice is hoarse from disuse. They’ve been praying in silence for the better part of an hour. “I’ll take this outside.”

“Shh.” Someone hisses at him.

Jisung slips into the empty hallway outside the chapel, grateful for the muffled noise from a Zumba class renting the room opposite the chapel.

He picks up the call.

“Yo, dude, you saved my-” Jisung stops. “Hyunjin? Are you crying?”

“Yes.” Hyunjin sniffles loudly into his phone, which comes through as a loud blast of static.

Jisung grimaces and holds the phone a safe distance from his ear. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?”

“Uh…” Jisung looks back at the words engraved into the chapel’s fogged glass door. “The house of the Lord.”

“I’ll- Wait, _where_?”

“Sorry, uh, I’m at a church thing with my mom.”

“ _Again_?”

“Yes, again,” Jisung sighs. “Whatever. What’s up with you? Who made you cry?”

“No one.” Hyunjin sniffles loudly again, right into Jisung’s ear, so it seems.

Jisung grimaces through the pain. “Listen, where do you wanna meet up? I’m gonna pretend you broke a fucking limb-”

“Jisung.”

Jisung freezes in place, turning around ever so slowly to face his mom, who’s just stepped out of the chapel. “Uh, hold on a minute Hyunjin.” He whispers into his phone.

“We’re going to begin the next part of the meditation soon,” His mom says.

“Oh, okay.” Jisung nods. Then a lightbulb goes off in his head, with all the delay of a fluorescent light in an abandoned building. “I mean, ah sh- _shucks_ , Mom, Park Hyunjin has a problem, I gotta go help him out-”

“Park Hyunjin? What kind of problem?”

“He’s in the hospital.”

“Then what will _you_ do?” Jisung’s mom asks, kind enough not to add, _You’re not a doctor._

“No, he’s not confined or anything,” Jisung laughs nervously. “He’s just visiting someone there. Right, Hyunjin?”

“Y- Yeah?” Hyunjin says.

Jisung’s mom is beginning to frown. “Jisung-”

“He has uh, relationship problems.” Jisung says. “Needs a shoulder to cry on.”

Jisung’s mom eases up on her frown. “Oh, oh dear. Poor thing. Why don’t you bring him here? Maybe the Lord can bring him some comfort-”

“Oh, uh, he’s not… He doesn’t… He’s gay.” Jisung says. “Very gay.”

“Jisung!” Hyunjin squeaks loudly, through the phone.

“Oh, okay.” Jisung’s mom nods, unfazed. “We accept all kinds here, Jisung.”

Jisung bites down before he accidentally swears in the presence of… his mom.

“Is that him on the phone?” Jisung’s mom asks, leaning in to speak into Jisung’s phone. “Why don’t you join us for some peace and quiet, Hyunjin? We’re on the fifth floor of the S_____ Building.”

“W- Where’s that?” Hyunjin asks.

“Above the chicken place I delivered for last semester.” Jisung grumbles.

“Oh, okay…”

Jisung is fully expecting Hyunjin not to show up, but he’s waiting outside the chapel just the same, just to get out of the meditative silence in the chapel that’s messing with his head. He’s expecting Hyunjin to have just gone home, since it’s been almost half an hour since their call. What Jisung is _not_ expecting is for Park Hyunjin to come squelching up the stairs fully drenched.

“Shit.” Jisung says the second he sees Hyunjin (Jisung’s mom had returned to the chapel, of course, and is out of earshot). “Did you fall into the river or something?”

“It rained.” Hyunjin pouts.

“Yeah, I know, but like, they invented something called umbrellas, my dude.”

“I’m not _that_ wet anymore.” Hyunjin says defensively.

Jisung reaches out to pinch the edge of Hyunjin’s hoodie sleeve. Sure enough, he accidentally wrings out a few drops of water. “You’re probably carrying enough to fill a fucking bath, Hyunjin. What happened?”

Hyunjin bites on his lips for a moment. “Bomi-”

“Jisung, we’re done, but Father Jung is still available if your friend-” Jisung’s mom had come out of the chapel flanked by her bible studymates, but she stops in mid-step when she sees Hyunjin. “Oh dear, Park Hyunjin, did you fall in the river?”

“No.” Hyunjin shakes his head, his ears glowing bright pink.

The other members of the bible study group bid Jisung’s mom good bye, not without giving Hyunjin concerned looks as they pass.

“Come on,” Jisung’s mom says, putting an arm around Hyunjin. “You’re coming home with us. I’ll ask Jisung’s dad to heat up some soup.”

Jisung, from behind his mom and out of her gaze, is shaking his head violently.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t-” Hyunjin starts.

“Park Hyunjin, your mother will never forgive me if I leave you like this,” Jisung’s mom laughs.

Hyunjin frowns.

“How are your parents, Hyunjin?” Jisung’s dad asks as he ladles out a second serving of soup into Hyunjin’s bowl.

“Um.” Hyunjin nods in thanks as he takes his bowl back to the table. “They’re still in Sapporo. Working.”

“Japan?” Jisung’s dad lifts both eyebrows. “When did they start working in Japan?”

Jisung looks up from his bowl at Hyunjin, whose face is unusually blank. Hyunjin’s face is usually going through an entire sticker set of emotions at any given time; Right now, it looks like the sticker set’s not loading.

“A couple years ago.” Hyunjin says.

Jisung wouldn’t call middle school “a couple years ago,” but he sips his soup in relative silence. _Hyunjin has his reasons._

“So where are you and your brother staying now?” Jisung’s dad asks, scraping the chair between Hyunjin and Jisung loudly before plopping himself down on it. “With an aunt or uncle?”

“No. We’re at the same house.” Hyunjin says. “I go home there for the holidays.”

“Just the two of you?” Jisung’s mom asks.

Hyunjin nods.

“His brother’s almost 30.” Jisung offers, desperately. “He teaches at W______ High.”

“Oh, really?” Jisung’s mom frowns. “I thought he wanted to be a doctor.”

“Sorry about that, dude.” Jisung says, leaning on the front door of their apartment. “My parents like to interrogate.”

“So do you.”

Jisung folds his arms. “Well, I’m sorry they asked you a lot of shit about your parents.”

“It’s okay. I don’t really care.” Hyunjin says.

Jisung doesn’t believe it for a second. “Okay.”

Hyunjin’s started towards the elevator, but he doesn’t push the button.

“Oh shit, I wasn’t able to ask you what was up.” Jisung calls out to him. “Why were you walking around in the rain like a fucking drama character?”

Hyunjin snorts. “See, I told you. You like to interrogate, too.”

“Hey-”

“Bye, Jisung.” Hyunjin mumbles, pushing the elevator button.

“Wait.” Jisung flings the door to their apartment open. “MOM! DAD! I’M JUST DROPPING HYUNJIN OFF AT HIS DORM!”

“IT’S RAINING!” Jisung’s mom shouts back.

“TAKE AN UMBRELLA WITH YOU!” Jisung’s dad shouts back.

“OKAY!” Jisung yells, grabbing the nearest umbrella to the door before running into the elevator just before the doors slide shut.

Hyunjin leans against the far wall of the elevator. “You don’t need to-”

“Listen, dude.” Jisung says, jabbing the umbrella threateningly in Hyunjin’s direction. “I may only be your fake boyfriend for funsies, but I’m gonna be a great fucking fake boyfriend-”

“I don’t need a fake boyfriend anymore.” Hyunjin sighs exasperatedly. “Bomi knows we’re faking it. How could she not?”

Jisung frowns. “Well, I for one think that _I_ was being an _excellent_ fake-”

“ _I don’t want a fake boyfriend!_ ” The elevator doors slide open, and Hyunjin storms out before Jisung can catch him. Jisung scurries across the apartment lobby, but Hyunjin’s strides are too big and angry for him to keep up with.

Hyunjin stops at the apartment’s glass doors, probably thinking twice about stomping out dramatically the rain pouring outside. Jisung sighs with relief.

“Here.” Jisung holds the umbrella out to Hyunjin. “Just return it to me whenever.”

“Thanks.” Hyunjin takes the umbrella gingerly.

Jisung pats Hyunjin on the back. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be your real boyfriend.”

Hyunjin jerks away from him, frowning at him. “D- Did you want to be?”

“Wha- No! _Nooo!_ Hell no!” Jisung makes a gagging noise before straightening himself out again. “No offense, dude.”

Hyunjin sighs. “Am I that unlikeable?”

“No, you’re perfectly likeable. Way more likeable than _me_ ,” Jisung assures him with another pat on the back. “Way _way_ more likeable than me. Everybody likes you, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin only sighs deeper. “Then why doesn’t he like me?”

“What?”

_Earlier that day_

The rain pours down on Bomi’s car in sheets, like someone’s upturned the biggest bucket in the world over it.

Hyunjin notices the way her fingers rest uneasily on the steering wheel. “We can wait until the rain lets up a little.” He offers.

Bomi grips the wheel, frowning at the windshield as her wipers swipe back and forth at a frantic pace, not really achieving anything.

Then she looks at Hyunjin with a half-smile. “Thought you didn’t wanna get stuck in a car with your ex?”

“I- I mean,” Hyunjin feels his face heat up. “I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, but if you’re not comfortable driving with the weather like this-”

“You can just say I’m scared of driving in this kind of weather, Hyunjin. Because I am.” Bomi laughs, killing the car’s engine. She scoots her seat back a little so she can put her feet up on the seat and hug her legs. “Let’s wait it out, then.”

“Okay.” Hyunjin folds his hands in his lap, running one finger over a scar on his knuckle.

“So what’s been up with you?”

“Oh.” Hyunjin frowns. _Is this normal?_ He’s never had an _actual_ ex before, so he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to behave. He could ask his brother, who’s got a truckload of exes. But then again, his brother’s got a truckload of exes. _He would probably just be a wellspring of bad advice in this situation._ “Well, I’ve uh… I’ve been taking- _re_ taking this math class.”

“I know that much,” Bomi smiles.

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Park Hyunjin.”

“So-” Hyunjin chews on his lip. “I mean- Uh… What’s been up with _you_? Aside from _your_ math class?”

“Nothing.” Bomi says. She hugs her knees tighter, resting her chin on top of one of them. “I don’t really do anything much these days.”

“Oh.” Hyunjin just barely manages to bite back on another apology. He doesn’t know why it just keeps tumbling out.

Bomi squints out of the windshield, which is just a blur of gray and a few bright lights with the water streaming down it. “I’m the one who should be saying sorry.”

“What?” Hyunjin shakes his head. “No, you didn’t-”

“I said a lot of horrible stuff to you when we broke up.” Bomi turns to Hyunjin with her nose scrunched up apologetically. “I didn’t mean any of it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault I wasn’t paying enough attention to you-”

“No, you dumbass, you were.” Bomi flicks him on the arm. “You’re still the nicest guy I know.”

“But I-”

“But maybe warn the next person you date about Seungmin.” Bomi says, turning to window. “Or maybe don’t date anyone at all until you’ve worked that out.”

Hyunjin frowns at Bomi. “Worked what out?”

Bomi turns back to Hyunjin, her eyes twinkling like she’s trying her hardest not to laugh right now. “Hyunjin, how much longer are you going to like someone who just doesn’t like you back?”

“He likes me. He’s just not ready for…” Hyunjin starts, but he doesn’t believe himself one bit. _He was ready to date Minho after a week._

“You’ve known each other for years.” Bomi says. “Will he ever be ready?”

Hyunjin swallows, but his throat feels tight. _Don’t cry, Hyunjin, do_ not _cry right now._

“Sorry. I just said sorry for all the shit I said but there I go again.” Bomi reaches out, and for a second Hyunjin’s afraid she’ll rest a hand on his arm, but she reaches further and opens the glove compartment, pulling out a box of tissue for Hyunjin. “It’s just so frustrating to watch a great guy like you waste your time waiting for something that just isn’t going to happen.”

“You don’t-”

“Do you know how annoying it is for me, that I don’t get to be with you because you're still waiting on someone who is _never_ going to like you back?”

Hyunjin takes a deep, shuddering breath. Then he pushes the car door open.

Bomi’s eyes widen as the rain starts blowing in. “Wait, Hyunjin-!”

“I don’t think the rain’s going to let up any time soon.” Hyunjin says, stepping out of the car. He leans in through the doorway to fix Bomi with a cold stare. “And just so you know, my- _that’s_ not the reason why I won’t get back with you. I just don’t like you that much, sorry. You should be with someone who does.”

“Hyunjin-”

“It’s not anyone else’s fault.”

Hyunjin slams the car door and starts walking away.

_Present_

Hyunjin rolls over in bed. It’s a mistake, because he finds himself looking right at Seungmin’s bed, with its’ perfectly tucked sheets as smooth and wrinkle-free as new paper.

Hyunjin’s used to rolling over like this when he can’t sleep, just to watch Seungmin sleep. He knows it’s probably really creepy, which is why he’s never told anyone about it, but just watching the outline of Seungmin under his blanket rise and fall makes Hyunjin feel calm.

Sometimes, when the tree outside their window’s just been cut and the streetlight streams in through the gap in their curtains, Hyunjin even sees the little frown on Seungmin’s face while the latter sleeps. He doesn’t know why Seungmin’s so serious when he’s just sleeping, but he thinks it’s cute.

And sometimes, like now, he wonders if Seungmin wouldn’t stop frowning if he were in Hyunjin’s arms.

_It’s never going to happen,_ Bomi’s voice seems to echo in his head. The rain and wind outside had died down, leaving the nearly-empty dorm too quiet.

_He's never going to like you that way._

Hyunjin turns to face the wall. He knew that. He thinks he knew it immediately, that night he met Seungmin at the training camp. Seungmin liked him immediately, and more than anyone else Hyunjin knows has ever liked him.

Hyunjin knows that. But knowing that just isn’t enough for him these days. He wants to feel it.

But he knows Seungmin just doesn’t like that sort of thing, and Hyunjin respects that.

Then he remembers Minho.

Hyunjin curls up in his bed, pulling his blanket up to his chin. _Bomi’s right._

_She was a bitch about it, but she’s right._

Hyunjin pulls his blanket up higher, closer to his scrunched-up eyes to dry them.

_If I want to go back to being a good friend to Seungmin like before, I have to stop wanting-_

A sudden bright light in the room makes Hyunjin almost scream.

He turns over to find his phone vibrating on the bedside table.

Hyunjin frowns at the caller ID. He thinks about it for a long while, hoping they give up on calling him. But they don’t.

“Seungmin?” Hyunjin mumbles into his phone, trying to keep his voice steady, or Seungmin’s going to ask why he’s been crying and then all hell will break loose-

“No, it’s me.” Minho’s voice feels like a stab in Hyunjin’s chest. “Could I ask you something?”

“Where’s Seungmin?” Hyunjin asks. He doesn’t know why. _Well, he_ is _using Seungmin’s phone._

“He’s passed out. I mean, he’s sleeping.”

_With Minho._ Hyunjin looks at the empty bed next to his, feeling his chest cave in a little more. “Sorry, what did you want?”

“I…”

Hyunjin dries his eyes on his blanket, frowning. “Did you say something?”

“No, I… I realize this was stupid of me. Sorry.” Minho says.

“No, it’s-” Hyunjin stops midsentence, because he hears someone else speaking near Minho.

“Don’t you have your own phone?” It’s muffled and distant, but it’s definitely Seungmin.

“Oh shit.” Minho laughs. “I thought this was mine.”

“Stop drinking so much.” Seungmin says, and there’s a rustling noise that sounds suspiciously like bedsheets being disturbed. “Who are you bothering now?”

“No one.” Minho says, and then the line goes dead.

Hyunjin blinks hard, feeling warm tears roll down the sides of his face against his will.


	9. Just one more time, I’m saying I miss you

Seungmin slides his phone safely into his back pocket, frowning at Minho, who’s managed to knot himself up in his blanket in the five minutes since Seungmin had dumped his drunk ass onto the bed. “I’m going now.”

“You’re no fun.” Minho says.

“You try being “fun” after dragging a grown man up two flights of stairs.” Seungmin grumbles, switching the lights in Minho’s bedroom off. “Bye.”

Minho mumbles something in reply, but Seungmin doesn’t bother to decipher it, because it’s probably nonsense.

Seungmin stops beside the drink cabinet on the first floor. The bottles inside are fewer and lonelier than he remembers, and he was here just a week ago.

_Oh, Minho._

Seungmin closes the front door of the house behind him, waiting to hear the lock click before he makes his way to the gate.

He’s just showered and is drying his hair when he remembers Minho had been calling someone on his phone. _I should change my passcode._

Seungmin opens his phone, bringing up the call log.

> _Hyunjinnie _ 00:28_

Seungmin exits the call log quickly. _Stupid Minho._

_What did he say to Hyunjin?_

Seungmin opens the call log again, his finger hovering over the button to call Hyunjin again. Then his eyes travel to the clock in the corner of his screen.

_No, it’s 2 in the morning. Hyunjin’s probably asleep._

Seungmin exits the call log again and opens his phone settings.

“Did you change your passcode?” Minho asks as soon as he arrives at the lab, close to noon. His hair isn’t as neat as it usually is, and he’s got a pair of sunglasses on, despite the weather outside not warranting them.

Arin and Donghyuck look at Seungmin, who doesn’t even look up from his laptop. But he’s stopped sorting through the data on his screen.

“Yes.” Seungmin says, before copying a row of data into a new sheet.

“Good.” Minho takes his sunglasses off and tucks them away into his drawer. “Did you check on the cells, Arin?”

“Yes. I think a lot of them are still detached.”

“I’ll go have a look at them.” Minho cracks his neck. He looks at Seungmin. “Have you guys ordered lunch?”

“Yes.” Donghyuck says, when Seungmin doesn’t reply.

“Good.” Minho says, before heading off to the cell culture room.

Seungmin keeps aimlessly running their data through stat tests it doesn’t need. He clicks save on the file before getting up.

“Where are you going?” Donghyuck asks.

“I have to call my mom.” Seungmin says.

Dongyuck and Arin raise their eyebrows at each other, but say nothing. Seungmin had left his phone face down on the lab bench.

“What did you say to Hyunjin last night?”

Minho wheels his stool away from the microscope, lifting the flask of cells off the microscope stage. “Give me a minute-”

Seungmin catches Minho’s seat with one hand. “What did you say to him?”

“Seungmin, if I drop this flask, I’ll kill you and then myself-”

“Did you tell him about us?”

“What’s there to tell?” Minho locks the flask away in the incubator before turning back to Seungmin. “And wasn’t that the point of us messing around? So he’ll know and be jealous out of his mind?”

Seungmin’s frown doesn’t let up. “What did you say to him?”

Minho looks at Seungmin for what feels like a long while, as if considering his words carefully, but not in a kind way.

Seungmin’s tired of waiting. “I don’t want to do this anymore. Delete those stupid pictures.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Look, I know everything’s just fun and games for you, but… _Other people_ ’s feelings are real. I don’t want him to get hurt.” Seungmin feels his face starting to heat up. “And Jisung’s never going to-”

He’s interrupted by a shrill chirping noise.

Seungmin and Minho both look down to find Minho’s phone lit up with an incoming call from an unsaved number.

Minho reaches for his phone slowly. “It’s probably the place I ordered lunch from.”

Seungmin nods, but he listens in as Minho picks up the call.

“Minho? Lee Minho?” The voice on the other end squawks, before Minho can even say hello. “Is this the right number?”

Minho and Seungmin exchanged confused, but unsurprised looks. They both know whose voice that is. It’s like a slap in the face for both of them.

“Hi.” Minho says curtly. “Hi Jisung.”

“Oh thank god,” Jisung laughs nervously. “Are you… uh… Sorry, are you busy?”

“Yes. Very.”

“Shit. Well. Uh, haha,” Jisung’s laugh jumps an anxious pitch up. “This is gonna sound really funny, but um… Could I maybe… borrow your spare room tonight?”

Minho’s entire face blushes and drains of color in a split second. “Excuse me?”

“Okay, okay, uh, can we meet up? I’ll explain myself.”

“Jisung, where are you?” Minho asks.

“Outside Changbin’s apartment. Apparently he’s in Taiwan with his uncle and Felix’s family so like… yeah. I don’t know where else to-”

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

Minho rolls his eyes. He opens his mouth to say something he knows will be mean, but thankfully, Seungmin speaks up before he can.

“Go meet him.” Seungmin says. “I’ll take care of your experiment today.”

Minho frowns up at him. “But-”

“I’ll ask Yaebin for help.” Seungmin gives him a look that seems to say, _Isn’t this what you wanted?_

Minho hesitates, finger hovering over the button to hang up on Jisung.

“Hey? Minho?” Jisung asks. “You still there?”

Minho looks up at Seungmin, who’s staring at him so earnestly that it’s making Minho’s chest hurt.

He chews on his lip.

_Earlier that day_

“Poor Park Hyunjin, he’s such a nice boy. Whoever he’s dating must be rotten,” Jisung’s mom says, handing Jisung a dish to dry. “I wonder if his mom knows he’s dating around already.”

“I’m sure she does.” Jisung says, rubbing the dish dry with a suspicious amount of energy for seven in the morning on a Saturday.

“How would she? She’s so far away from him.” Jisung’s mom hands him another dish. “Did you date anyone, while you were living away from me?”

Jisung drops the dish on the countertop. Thankfully, they’re both more plastic than anything else, and the dish bounces without so much as a scratch.

“You’ll tell me when you’re seeing someone, won’t you?”

“Of course, Mom.” Jisung wipes the dish and the counter dry. He’s inches away from mopping his own sweaty forehead with the same rag.

“And make sure they’re at least prettier than me.” Jisung’s mom chuckles.

Jisung finds himself thinking about Minho’s eyelashes again, which happens to him more often than he’d ever admit.

“That’s a low bar, sweetheart.” Jisung’s dad chuckles, from where he’s sipping his coffee at the table.

“Says the fool who’s married to me,” Jisung’s mom says, flicking some of the soapy dishwater in his direction. She hands Jisung the last plate. “Jisung, just make sure they’re nice and they’re good to you.”

“Park Hyunjin’s prettier than you these days,” Jisung’s dad says, still laughing at his own joke.

Jisung’s mom takes one of her rubber gloves off and launches it at her husband, leaving him frowning at the suds that had gotten into his coffee. Then she turns back to Jisung with a smile. “He’s in need of a haircut, isn’t he? Park Hyunjin, I mean.”

“I think he looks… fine.”

“Oh, of course, but it’s just not nice on a boy. Maybe if he were a girl, his hair would’ve been cute.” Jisung’s mom says. “He would’ve been _so_ cute, if he were a girl. I’d have made you go on a date with her.”

“I’d never date Park Hyunjin.” Jisung says, mouth locked in a tight grimace.

“Well, I said if he were a _girl_.”

“Even so.” Jisung says tensely.

“It’s almost eight, Jisung, shouldn’t you get going?” Jisung’s dad asks, checking his watch while he tries to fish the bubbles of dish soap out of his coffee.

“Huh?”

“Remember?” Jisung’s mom frowns at him. “I signed you up for that Youth Encounter this weekend?”

Jisung’s eyes widen. “Encounter with _what_?”

“The _Lord_ , Jisung.” Jisung’s mom sighs. “It’s just like bible study for teens. And summer camp. All in one.”

“I’m almost twenty, Mom.” Jisung says anxiously.

“Not for another three months.” Jisung’s mom’s smile is the sort of smile that ends arguments, closes cases, and gives final verdicts. She turns to Jisung’s dad. “Give him money to get to Seoul.”

Jisung blinks at her. “It’s in Seoul?”

_Present_

“So,” Minho takes a long sip of his iced americano. “How much did they give you?”

Jisung takes a long sip of the free glass of water he’d managed to wheedle out of the barista. “Uh. Enough to get here and back.”

“What about food?” Minho asks, looking out the window of the café.

“I dunno, I guess they were expecting God to provide.”

Minho chortles into his drink.

“Sorry.” Jisung says, snatching a table napkin from the next table and holding it out to Minho. The couple at the next table frown at him, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

Minho takes the napkin and dabs at the corners of his mouth. “Changbin didn’t tell you he was going on vacation?”

“Well,” Jisung runs a hand self-consciously through his hair. “I didn’t ask.”

Minho grins. He was afraid Jisung would be different, he doesn’t know why, but anyway, he’s relieved to know that Jisung’s the same idiot who thinks he can wing sleeping arrangements in the middle of an unfamiliar city.

“I can pay for the guest room.” Jisung offers.

“With what?” Minho scoffs. “Let’s say you use up your money renting the guest room, then what? You’ll borrow some from me for the train home? And then you’ll have to come back and pay me back, and then we’ll never be rid of each other, right?”

Jisung lowers his head. “You could’ve just told me to fuck off and go to my bible camp.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t, did I?” Minho sips his coffee.

Jisung looks up at Minho with this look, this genuinely surprised, so much so that it’s borderline silly, sort of look that makes Minho nearly choke on his drink.

“You’d never have survived in bible camp.” Minho says, dabbing self-consciously at his mouth with the napkin. “They smoke out gays like exterminators.”

“Oh, I’m not gay anymore.” Jisung says with a wide grin.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m trying it out.” Jisung says, flexing his knuckles. “I figured I’m already oppressed enough, being short and poor and kinda weak and dumb and ugly-”

“You’re not-” Minho clears his throat self-consciously. “So what was Park Hyunjin?”

Jisung blinks at him. “Huh?”

An ordinary person might’ve thought that Jisung was just faking innocence, but the corners of Jisung’s mouth aren’t twitching like they do when he’s swindling someone. Minho knows that much.

“Park Hyunjin. Isn’t he your boyfriend?”

“Oh. You heard about that.” Jisung’s face starts to glow pink.

“Unfortunately, when you post things online, people who follow you _do_ see them.”

“It’s not, you know, uh, I was just helping him out.”

Minho takes a sip of his coffee. “I would kill my boyfriend if he described our relationship that way.”

Jisung’s face has graduated from pink, and is now a deeply uncomfortable red. “Uh… Seungmin would never, anyway. Right?”

Minho frowns at him. “What?”

“Seungmin.” Jisung says. “Kim Seungmin? _Your_ boyfriend?”

“Oh.”

“Or are you still with that other guy and Seungmin’s just…” Jisung trails off, picking up another table napkin from the next table, to the annoyance of the couple there. He starts folding it back and forth into little triangles. “I mean, Seungmin _is_ really hot…”

Minho crumples his own napkin up in a fist. “Do I seem like that much of a cheater?”

“No, I- I mean, I don’t know,” Jisung shrugs. “Haven’t talked to you in ages.”

Minho drops the crumpled tissue onto the table.

“You could’ve.” He says, hoping he doesn’t sound too lonely.

“Yeah.” Jisung says quietly.

Minho turns to the window, chewing on the paper straw of his drink but never taking a sip.

“Maybe I _should_ just go to that bible camp.” Jisung says, pushing his seat back. “Sorry for bothering you, Minho.”

Minho doesn’t say anything.

Jisung lowers the napkin he’d stolen onto the table. It’s been folded into some lopsided little arrow shape.

He turns and quickly leaves the café in uncharacteristic silence.

Minho leans back in his seat, watching the top of Jisung’s head disappear into the crowd shuffling on the sidewalk outside.

Minho picks up the napkin Jisung had left behind, frowning at it. Then he turns it upside down.

_Oh. It’s supposed to be a heart._

Jisung’s just arrived at the gate of the house where the bible study camp’s supposed to be when his phone buzzes in his pocket.

He pulls his phone out in mild horror. _Do they_ know _I’m here? What the fuck?_

> _2 new messages from Lee Minho's New Number (I Think)._
> 
> _LMH:_ You remember where my aunt’s house is, right? I’ll be home late today, just let yourself in.
> 
> _LMH:_ The keycode’s 021583.

Jisung licks his lips. _What the hell?_

The gate before him swings open, revealing a smiling man in his mid-thirties. “You must be Han Jisung! We thought you’d gotten lost-”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I am lost.” Jisung says.

The man’s smile persists. “Huh?”

Jisung starts sprinting down the sidewalk. “Hope you find Han Jisung, whoever he is!”

Minho looks up at his aunt’s house. It’s already half an hour past sunset, but he can’t see the glow of lights from the top of the hill. _I guess he didn’t come after all._

He doesn’t know how he ought to feel, he’s still thinking about it as he marches up the sloped walk to the house, punches in all the keycodes to the gate and the doors like they’d wronged him personally, and throws his things into a heap at the corner of the living room.

He reaches underneath the bar for a box of cigarettes and a lighter – which he knows he ought not keep next to the drink cabinet for fire safety reasons, but Minho hasn’t had the time for foresight these days.

He steps out onto the porch, sanding at the side of the house facing the perimeter wall. A few draws of the cigarette have him feeling almost at ease.

“…you get what I mean? No, of course you don’t, you guys are fish.”

Minho’s eyes shoot wide open. He presses himself to the wall, peering carefully around the corner into the front garden.

“What I would give to be one of you guys… You don’t have to go to school, or work, or submit your entire life to capitalism…” A small figure is seated on the grass next to the koi pond. It sits up straighter suddenly. “Y’all smell that?”

Minho looks down at the cigarette in his hand. He starts trying to fan the smoke away, but the wind’s blowing in from the mountains, and it’s not on his side. Or rather, it _is_ , and that’s the problem.

The figure by the pond starts coughing. “Who the fuck…”

Minho nearly drops the cigarette and stomps it out, but then he looks at how much is left and can’t bring himself to do it.

He ducks back around the corner, starting down the stone path leading from the side porch to the back of the house.

“Minho?”

Minho stops in his tracks, turning slowly with the cigarette carefully hidden behind his back. “Oh. Jisung. You’re here.”

“When did you get here?” Jisung’s eyes are bright even in the faint moonlight, like a woodland creature.

“Oh, just a few minutes ago.” Minho says. “Why didn’t you turn on any of the lights?”

“Oh. I didn’t realize…” Jisung looks over at the darkened house. “I’ve just been hanging out with the koi. Vibing.”

“I heard.”

Jisung scratches his head self-consciously. “Uh, how much did you hear?”

“I was far away, I didn’t catch what you were saying.” Minho says quickly.

“Oh. Okay. Good.” Jisung laughs.

They lapse into a silence, with the smoke from behind Minho curling out and snaking between them.

Jisung starts coughing again.

“Sorry.” Minho squashes the cigarette out on the nearest decorative stone guardian. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Jisung takes a deep breath. “My asthma’s not as bad as it used to be. It’s used to city shit.”

“That’s good. I guess.” Minho turns to go, but realizes Jisung’s standing between him and the door to get back into the house. “I’ll uh, I’ll get started on dinner.”

He steps as far around Jisung as he can, going off the stone path and onto the gravel.

“I thought you quit.” Jisung says. Minho had been hoping he wouldn’t notice, but he knew Jisung well enough to expect it.

Minho stops with one hand on the sliding door. “My boyfriend’s not asthmatic.”

“I don’t care about him.”

Minho slides the door open. “I won’t smoke while you’re here.”

Jisung puffs his cheeks irritably. “Then I can’t leave, can I?”

Minho frowns at him.

“I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.” Minho closes the door quietly behind him.

Jisung stares down into the koi pond. He couldn’t find the light for the pond, so it’s just a limitless black pool.

He _had_ found the cigarettes, of course, while he was inspecting the liquor cabinet. What kind of self-respecting guest _doesn’t_ check out the liquor cabinet?

He’d also found the liquor cabinet practically empty, and a huge crate at the side of the house full of empty bottles waiting to be picked up for recycled. He’d figured that Minho must have thrown a party recently. But the actual trash bins weren’t filled with things like tissue roll cartons and paper cups, so Jisung could only guess that Minho cleaned off all those drinks on his own, and for no occasion.

_No. There were two washed glasses in the dish rack._

Jisung frowns down at the fat koi currently swimming a little too close to the surface. _Why would Seungmin just let Minho do all that?_

_Seungmin’s a Responsible Person™._

_Why wouldn’t he take better care of Minho?_

“Hey.”

Jisung pitches forward in surprise, but Minho catches him by the back of his hoodie before he joins the koi uninvited.

“Holy shit, dude, you scared me.” Jisung says, scrambling away from the water’s edge with one hand on his chest.

“Sorry.” Minho says. “Dinner’s ready.”

Jisung follows Minho back into the house to find more food set on the dining table than even his aunt and uncle would prepare for his birthdays.

“Holy shit.” Jisung says. “You sure I don’t have to pay for any-”

“Most of it’s leftovers. I cook when I’m stressed and I-” Minho cuts himself off, his ears reddening. “I don’t usually have anyone to help me finish them.”

Jisung notices, of course, that Minho’s table setting is clear across the table from his own. “Seungmin doesn’t?”

“He doesn’t eat much when he comes here.”

“That’s too bad,” Jisung says, scooping unapologetically large servings onto his plate. “He’s missing out.”

Minho smiles. “No, I think he’s just too polite.”

Jisung grimaces, lifting a spoon to scrape some of the food on his plate back into the serving dish.

“Don’t put it back, that’s gross,” Minho laughs. “Just eat it all, you’re doing me a favor. More space in the fridge for beer.”

Jisung stops chewing, but he’d stuffed his mouth too much to let him say anything. He just frowns at Minho while the latter spoons a couple bites’ worth of food onto his plate.

“That’s all you’re eating?” Jisung asks.

“I’m not hungry.” Minho says.

Jisung reaches over to scoop a mound of beef onto Minho’s plate.

Minho glares at him.

“You can’t put it back.” Jisung says. “It’s gross.”

Minho sighs and takes a bite of his dinner.

Jisung lays back onto the plush queen-sized bed of one of the guest rooms. He smiles. _This beats the goddamn couch at home. My spine’s starting to become couch-shaped._

He hears a noise from the next room, like someone’s pushing heavy furniture.

Jisung closes his eyes. _Mind your own business, he’s already pissed at you._

He hears the clink of a bottle on a table.

Jisung’s never been good at minding his own business.

He grabs a pillow – though later he doesn’t know why, for protection, maybe – before going up to the door to Minho’s room, knocking on it gently. “Minho?”

Jisung doesn’t get a reply, but the noises from inside the room stop.

“Minho?” He knocks again.

Jisung sighs and tries the doorknob. It’s not locked, but when he pushes on the door, it knocks into something very solid.

He peeks in through the crack in the door. The heavy hardwood desk had been pushed up against the door. Jisung tries to peek further into the room, but all he can see is a cabinet, also pushed up against the door. “Minho, what the fuck is this?”

“Protection.” Minho’s voice carries from deeper in the room.

Jisung sighs and tries to push on the door again, but with a desk and a wardrobe twice his size against it, he wasn’t really expecting much. “I’m not going to do anything, Minho, I just wanna talk.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Minho.” Jisung groans. “Please, let’s be adults-”

“What if I don’t want to be an adult? Did anyone ask me?” Minho huffs. “Did anyone ask me if I even wanted to be an adult?”

“You’re barely an adult!” Jisung grumbles, leaning helplessly against the door. “You’re just a drunk kid!”

Minho starts laughing. “Says the kid who ran away from bible camp!”

“I know what I am! Don’t bring it up!” Jisung snaps, kicking the door. “Ow ow ow…”

Minho’s face appears, peeking in the gap between the wardrobe and the wall. “Are you okay?”

Jisung holds his toe. “I don’t think it’s broken.”

There’s this godawful scraping noise as the wardrobe is moved out of the way, followed by the desk.

Then Minho’s standing in the doorway, his hair a tousled mess and his face flushed pink down to his neck. He tilts his head to one side, giving Jisung a warm smile. “You want a drink?”

“I shouldn’t.” Jisung says immediately.

“I know.” Minho says. “But all I’ve had for company lately is Seungmin, and he’s terrible.”

“Really?” Jisung says slowly. He hasn’t seen Minho looking like this much of a mess in a long time, and it’s reviving parts of his brain he had hoped would stay dead.

“Well, in his defense, I’m not the company he wants.”

Jisung snorts despite himself. “Hyunjin’s like that, too. Physically, he’s there saying some shit to you, but mentally, it’s all _Seungmin Seungmin Seungmin_ …”

Minho rolls his eyes, leaning on the doorframe. “They’re insufferable.”

Minho’s pajamas are very thin, and the light from his bedroom is outlining his body underneath just a little too much for Jisung to handle right now.

_Maybe Minho was smart to barricade the door._ Jisung swallows.

“And he’s such a bad kisser.”

Jisung’s mouth is dry. “Who?”

“Seungmin. He’s just awful.” Minho’s lips curl into a smile. “Even my last ex was a better kisser than he was, and he made out like a dog.”

“…Me?”

“No, not you,” Minho laughs, giving Jisung a playful push on the chest. “No, Jisung, the guy I was dating before this summer.”

“Oh.”

“He wasn’t-”

“You’re my last ex.” Jisung says. Then he makes a face at himself. _What the fuck? Am I drunk? Where the fuck did that come from?_

Minho’s smile falters. “Really?”

“Not for lack of trying, trust me.” Jisung says. “I’m starting to think I’m kind of an acquired taste. Like blue cheese.”

“Well, that’s dumb of them,” Minho says. “You’re a great boyfriend.”

“I know, right?”

“I mean, you were.” Minho corrects himself, pursing his lips.

A heavy silence falls between them.

Jisung finds himself stumbling forward, as if being pulled by strings.

Minho rests a hand on one of Jisung’s shoulders. “No.”

Jisung blushes. “I know, I’m not-”

“You know what was great about our relationship, Jisung?” Minho asks. He doesn’t wait for Jisung to reply, not that the latter thinks he could right now. “It never went bad. It never reached that point. I think we should leave it at that.”

Jisung knows Minho’s right. Or, at least, he’s trying to convince himself that Minho is.

But his feet carry him closer to Minho, and Minho’s hand on his shoulder slides down to the small of his back.

Jisung closes his eyes as he tilts his face up to Minho’s, letting his lips part.

Minho’s lips press against his own, so lightly it’s like they’re not there.

Jisung reaches up and takes Minho’s face in his hands, thumbing over the soft curves of Minho’s profile.

He leans in for a deeper kiss, frowning when all he tastes is the light mint of toothpaste.

“You’re not drunk.” Jisung pulls away, looking right into Minho’s beautiful dark eyes. _A mistake, if there ever was one._

“No, I didn’t even open the bottle.” Minho says, his breath light and warm against Jisung’s face.

Jisung swallows, but his throat seems to have closed over. He nods vaguely. “Good. Throw out all the cigarettes next.”

“I already brushed my teeth twice.” Minho frowns. “Can you still taste it?”

“Not sure, let me see,” Jisung says, opening his mouth to kiss Minho again. Minho grins lightly as he humors him, bending over to close his lips around Jisung’s. _Minho’s mouth just tastes like toothpaste._ “Ugh, yeah, it’s horrible. I’m about to have an asthma attack.”

“We should stop, then.” Minho says, pressing himself against one side of the doorframe.

“We shouldn’t have started.” Jisung agrees, leaning on the opposite side.

“Good night, Jisung.” Minho says, tilting his head pointedly to the hallway.

Jisung sighs. “Promise me you won’t drink or smoke or anything. Or do anything dumb with the furniture. You might pull your back.”

“I won’t. I promise.” Minho says. “I’ll go right to sleep.”

“Me too.” Jisung nods. “Good night, Minho.”

“Good night.”

Jisung walks back to his room, taking careful steps in the hopes that Minho calls out to him, asks him to stop and turn around.

But Minho doesn’t, so Jisung goes back into his room and lays back onto the perfect guest room bed.

His back is, for the first time in a long time, not giving him a hard time, but Jisung can’t fall asleep.

He wraps his arms around himself, resting one hand firmly on his back. But his hands just don’t feel the same.

Jisung touches his lips, feeling his heartbeat through them. He can touch his lips all he likes, but he knows it just won’t be the same.

Jisung throws the sheets off of him and leaves the room.

Minho’s door opens before Jisung can even knock.

“I can’t sleep.” Minho says.

“Me neither.”

“I missed you.” Minho’s breathless, as if the trip from his bed to the door had gotten him winded.

“Me too.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me?” Minho demands. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t know how.”

“You just pick up the goddamn phone and press-”

“No! I didn’t know how to talk to you just as a friend,” Jisung says. “You wanted to be just friends. I didn’t know how to do that with you. I can’t be just friends with you! Do you even _know_ you? How am I supposed to be _just friends_ with someone like you?”

“So you decided to be nothing?”

“Yes! Yes, exactly!” Jisung claps his hands together.

“You are so stupid.” Minho groans.

Jisung gives him a shy, but still shit-eating grin. He opens his arms. “And yet…”

“And yet here I am,” Minho says, rolling his eyes as he walks right into Jisung’s embrace, burying his face in Jisung’s hair. “Does this make me stupider?”

“Maybe,” Jisung says, tilting his face to kiss Minho on the cheek. He wets his lips, angling his face to kiss Minho on the edge of his mouth.

Minho leans away, looking into Jisung’s eyes. “Jisung, I’m sorry, but I’m going to be honest with you, I don’t think I have the time or energy to try again.”

“Oh me neither. I’m supposed to be somewhere singing about Jesus.” Jisung snorts. He glances down at the hairsbreadth of a space between them. “Which I am definitely _not_ doing right now.”

Minho grins. “I’m serious, Jisung.”

“So am I.” Jisung says, guiding Minho by the chin to kiss him gently on the lips. He breaks into a goofy smile. “I always was.”

Minho pulls Jisung into his room, slamming the door shut behind them.


	10. I’m pathetic, but what can I do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I picked a random name out of a hat for Jimin’s fiancé so like… imagine it’s got7 Youngjae NOT the tbz Eric Youngjae who has been appearing in the past 2 fics lmaooo MESS

_The next morning_

Seungmin knocks gently on the edge of Yaebin’s bench, where Yabein and Arin are crouched over a laptop. “Sorry, are you two busy?”

“No, I guess not.” Yaebin says, looking away from her laptop with a smile for Seungmin. “What’s up?”

“Have you seen Minho today?”

Yaebin’s mouth quivers in amusement, but never actually slips into a smile. “Uh, wouldn’t _you_ know that better than I do?”

Seungmin shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath, mouthing what seems to be numbers under his breath.

Arin has enough sense to scoot a little bit further away from him before saying, “No, I haven’t seen him all day. Have you?”

“No.” Yaebin says. “Is his bag at his desk?”

“Nope.”

“He’s probably not in, then.” Yaebin shrugs. “Just text him whatever you wanna say to him, maybe he overslept.”

Seungmin grimaces. “He’s not answering his-”

“Hey, Seungmin!” Donghyuck stops in his tracks, carrying a basket of newly-washed flasks. “You’re still here?”

“Dr. Park told me to ask Minho if I had any work to do before I left.”

“Where are you going?” Yaebin asks, facing the laptop again in a vain effort to not look too interested.

“I have a family event.” Seungmin says. 

“His sister got engaged.” Arin adds, ignoring the annoyed look Seungmin gives her.

“They’re having a party.” Donghyuck grins, likewise ignoring the look Seungmin gives him.

“It’s just lunch.” Seungmin says sternly.

“Oh, good on her.” Yaebin says, with halfhearted applause. She glances at the clock on her laptop. “If it’s a lunch thing, shouldn’t you be leaving already? You live in Busan, right?”

Seungmin sighs, glancing at Minho’s empty desk again. There’s a weird sense of bitterness in the way he says, “No, I don’t.”

“Hey, Minho?”

Minho manages to force one eye open, finding Jisung poking him in the chest. He’s uncomfortably sweat and warm and tangled in his sheets, but he smiles anyway. “What?”

“Do you _seriously_ have Seungmin’s number saved as ‘Kim Seungmin (High School)’?” Jisung chortles.

“Yes.” Minho frowns, groaning as he props himself up on his elbows. “Why do you ask?”

“I thought you were messing around with him, but apparently, he’s just a fucking _acquaintance_ to you,” Jisung snorts as he hands Minho his phone.

“We’re not-” The first thing Minho sees is that it’s already 11:32 in the morning.

_Fuck._

The next this he sees is:

> _23 new messages from Kim Seungmin (High School)._

_Double fuck._

“What do you have my number saved as?” Jisung asks.

Minho’s scrolling down Seungmin’s messages like it’s a game. “Uh… I haven’t saved your new number.”

Jisung smacks him on the arm. “ _Seriously_? How many times do I have to sleep with you before you-”

“I was gonna do it today- Goddamn it, Seungmin.” Minho grumbles.

“Why, what’d he do?” Jisung props his chin on Minho’s shoulder, peering at Minho’s phone with wide eyes.

“The overcompetent little fuck started my experiment for me,” Minho grumbles, flopping back onto his pillows. “So now I have to go and finish it.”

Jisung pouts, leaning on Minho’s chest. “Why can’t he finish it himself?”

“Because he has to go home to his sister’s engagement party.”

Jisung’s eyes widen to almost perfect circles. “Isn’t his sister in the second grade???”

Minho taps Jisung on the head with his phone. “No, you clown, his _older_ sister, obviously. The one who’s the same age as Hyunjin’s brother.”

“Ah, _Coach Park_ ,” Jisung grins, leaning back on his elbows with the airs of a veteran recalling some War. “How can anyone forget him?”

Minho had settled back against his pillows, letting his eyes flutter shut in complete denial of the work Seungmin had left out for him. Then he sits up suddenly, sending Jisung screaming.

“WHAT THE FUCK, DUDE!” Jisung gasps, clutching at his chest.

Minho grabs Jisung by the shoulders. “Do you think Hyunjin’s invited to that party?”

“What? The fuck?”

“To Seungmin’s sister’s engagement party. She’s friends with Hyunjin’s brother,” Minho says, slowly, like he’s explaining things to a toddler. “And she probably invited one or two friends to keep Seungmin company because that party is going to be boring as _fuck_. So…”

“So she invited Hyunjin, duh.” Jisung makes a face. “What’s up with that?”

Minho sighs and shakes Jisung’s shoulders. “Does Hyunjin also think that Seungmin and I are screwing?”

“Uh, yeah, definitely. You made it pretty fucking clear.” Jisung says. “Remind me again _why_ -”

“Because we thought that you and Hyunjin were dating, you _imbecile_!”

“That’s a sexy word, so I’m not offended,” Jisung says, patting Minho on the arm in a desperate attempt to regain circulation in his shoulders. Then his mouth falls open in realization. He looks up at Minho with double the desperation in his eyes.

“God, I knew it.” Minho sighs. “I knew you would _never_ date Park Hyunjin, no matter how easy he is.”

“Hey, don’t say that about Hyunjin, I’ve known him since preschool and…” Jisung crosses his arms. “And you’re absolutely right.”

Minho snorts.

“And we were just pretending so that his ex would fuck off!” Jisung whines. “She’s fucking stalking him-”

Minho shakes his head. “I still can’t believe Park Hyunjin’s moronic ass is _roommates_ with Kim Fucking Seungmin and he’s behaving _HETEROSEXUALLY_?”

Jisung frowns. “Hey, nothing wrong with trying out new things.”

“Oh god. Oh god, what a stupid, stupid boy...” Minho runs his hands through his hair until it’s a fluffy cloud of pure mess. “Why does Seungmin even like him?”

“The man had to have some flaws,” Jisung shrugs.

“He already has enough! Like thinking he’s doing me a favor by starting an 8-hour long experiment for me to fucking finish!” Minho grumbles.

Seungmin smiles to himself as he checks his watch. _Just one more hour for Minho’s experiment now._

He thanks the cab driver before stepping out onto the curb. His dad’s house – he can’t seem to call it anything but that, it’s never felt like _his_ house – is as garish as ever, a shining beacon of white and gold he has to squint at from all the way down the street.

He hears the music as he comes closer, the less-than-appropriate R&B that Jimin used to blast at top volume while studying for her exams.

_“It’s a miracle Her Majesty is even letting me use the garden,” She’d said to Seungmin over the phone._

_“Maybe she thinks she’s being gracious-”_

_“Or someone hit her really hard over the head.”_

_“Noona!”_

_“Just saying, that woman can’t have had a change of heart. She’d need a heart to begin with.”_

Seungmin rings the doorbell. He had texted his sister that his train had arrived, but he figured she must’ve been busy with the party, since he _is_ technically several hours late.

The gate swings open. Even if she had been busy, his sister doesn’t look it. She looks lovely, in a bright yellow sundress, but on top of that she looks more than a little day drunk.

“KIM SEUNGMIIIN!” Jimin screams, running down the house’s front steps in one strappy sandal. _God alone knows where the other one is._

“Oohf,” Seungmin huffs when his sister rugby tackles him. He pats her on the back, unable to hold back a smile as he holds her upright. “Sorry I’m late, noona.”

“Shut up, your timing is perfect, all of dad’s goddamn relatives have left already,” Jimin grins, tiptoeing to hook an arm around Seungmin’s shoulders. “Did you get taller?”

“You’re missing one shoe.”

“No, you _did_ get taller. How _rude,_ ” Jimin says, pinching Seungmin’s cheek. “Speaking of rude, you should’ve brought your new boy toy so I could interrogate him-”

“Hi Seungmin! Good we caught you, we were just about to go.”

“Hi Youngjae-hyung.” Seungmin finds his sister’s boyfriend – _I mean, my future brother-in-law_ – standing in the foyer, holding one yellow sandal. _Ah, there it is,_ he thinks.

“She started chugging the wine the second the last of the guests walked out the door,” Youngjae explains, giving Seungmin a tired, but friendly enough smile as he bends over to put Jimin’s other sandal back on.

“You’re lucky I didn’t start when _Seungmin’s_ aunts started bringing up my mom again.” Jimin grumbles.

Seungmin sighs. He would’ve started drinking before the party even started, if he’d have been in her place.

_No, I would never have been in her place._ Seungmin thinks sadly. _For more reasons than one._

“You know you lowkey enjoy listening to them, Minnie.” Jimin’s boyfriend – _no,_ fiancé chuckles as he helps Jimin to her feet.

Seungmin frowns.

Seungmin knows that Youngjae must call Jimin _something_ in private, and that he, Seungmin, is by no means the only “Minnie” on the entire planet, but it just feels strange for him to hear someone call someone else that.

He can’t remember the last time anyone called him that, but he misses it.

“Oh, Seungmin, how’s that internship going?” Jimin asks. “Any of the big kids bullying you?”

“No, they’re fine.” Seungmin looks around. It must have been a pretty big party, judging by the number of tables the caterers are loading into their truck. Seungmin’s glad to have missed it.

“You’re working at the cancer research place, right?” Youngjae asks.

“Yes.” Seungmin steps aside as the caterers talk to Jimin and her fiancé about something or the other. He steps out into the back garden, which still has large swathes of off-white cloths draped between the trees, as a makeshift sunshade. The grass is trampled and straight-up punched through with holes where it seems that the tables and chairs were. Hundreds of people must’ve been milling about there just a few hours before, some spilling out onto the herbs and flowers planted at the edges of the garden, now also laying wilted in the dirt.

“Seungminnie!”

Seungmin doesn’t bother turning around. “Hello, Mom.”

“What took you so long? You missed the party!”

Seungmin could explain it to her for the rest of their lives, but the rest of his life would be very short and painful if he spent it trying to get his mother to understand that he didn’t want to be there at all.

“Your friend was looking for you.” Seungmin’s mom says.

“Who?”

“The one with the long hair? Nice boy, can’t remember his name, though-”

“Park Hyunjin?” Seungmin asks, hoping he gave himself a long enough of a delay to sound casual about it.

“I think so?”

“Did he say anything else?” Seungmin looks at his mom, who seems startled at his expression. _Why? What do I look like?_

“Oh, I don’t really remember, there were so many people here a while ago,” Seungmin’s mom says. “Can’t you text him?”

“I could,” Seungmin says, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket just as he says that. He hopes, for a second, that it’s Hyunjin saving him the sheer pain of being the first one to text, but he knows what Hyunjin’s timing is like.

> _1 new message from Lee Minho (High School)._

Seungmin tries to bite back a smirk as he opens the message. The screen takes a moment to adjust to the dim light of the garden. He can only imagine how annoyed Minho must be, having to work past sunset on a Sunday.

_On second thought, why did I even do that to Minho at all?_

> _LMH:_ Hi Seungmin my man… my SeungMAN this is Jisung ✌ Thanks a ton 4 getting me the loml back 😘 Hope things work out with u & Hyunjin btwww we were never dating we were just trying to throw B*mi’s whack stalker ass off his scent anywayz xoxo love you Seungmin you’re the best

Seungmin pockets his phone again angrily. He remembers.

His phone buzzes again, but he ignores it.

“Hey, Seungmin, we’re going out for coffee, wanna come with?” Jimin calls out, hanging precariously on the sliding door out to the garden. “Youngjae’s paying!”

Seungmin’s about to say no thanks, but then he frowns and takes his phone out again.

> _1 new message from Lee Minho (High School)._
> 
> _LMH:_ I’m so sorry about him but he’s starting to get bored. Anyway, I’m nearly done with the experiment, enjoy NOT having someone to make out with, you BITCH ❤

Seungmin stares at his phone for altogether too long.

“HEY! Seungmin! You coming or not!”

“Jeez, Minnie, are you trying to get a noise complaint?” Youngjae laughs.

“In my parents’ behalf? Sure.”

Seungmin pockets his phone, running up to his sister and her fiancé with a smile so bright that the other two stop laughing in mild confusion.

“I’m coming.” He says.

Seungmin hops out of Youngjae’s car the second it slows to a stop outside Jisung’s aunt’s café.

“Seungmin?” Jimin calls after him, but he’s already was past the café, running down the sidewalk.

He doesn’t stop running, not even when the Parks’ elderly neighbor warns him that the sidewalk’s damp and he might slip, not until he’s at the door to the Parks’ apartment, knocking on it like he’s trying to take it down with one fist.

The door swings open. “You know they invented doorbells, right?” Jinyoung sighs.

“Oh. I thought yours was still broken.”

“I fixed it.” Mark says, waving from the kitchen. “Hey Seungmin, I didn’t see you at Jimin’s party a while ago.”

“I came late.” Seungmin says. “Is Hyunjin here?”

“Oh,” Mark grimaces. “You just missed him.”

Seungmin blinks at him, then at Jinyoung, who only sighs.

“He has a Math class early tomorrow, so he took the 7:00 train out.” Jinyoung says.

Seungmin checks his watch. _7:16 PM._

He takes a breath and leans against the doorframe, frowning.

“Hey, you okay, Seungmin? Did you run here?” Jinyoung asks, pushing the door open wider. “You wanna come in?”

“No, I was just going to say hi anyway,” Seungmin says. “My sister and her boyfriend- I mean, her fiancé… They’re waiting for me at the café.”

“That’s still so weird to think about.” Jinyoung says.

“What is?” Seungmin frowns.

“That Park Jimin’s getting married. Pretty much everyone I know from high school’s getting married these days,” Jinyoung says, with a dry, humorless chuckle.

“ _I’m_ not.” Mark hums from inside the apartment. When he catches Seungmin’s gaze he smiles. “Won’t you come in and play with Hyunjin for a while? I’m sure she misses you.”

“Oh, right, yeah.” Seungmin nods eagerly, scuffing his shoes on the welcome mat before leaving them to one side. “Where is she?”

“She’s usually in Hyunjin’s room. I mean Hyunjin the boy-” Mark looks up thoughtfully at the ceiling. “Well, I guess it’s kind of the cat Hyunjin’s room now.”

“Okay.” Seungmin nods.

Seungmin walks carefully down the hallway, taking the small, timid steps you do in an ancient building or a museum, when you’re afraid of even disturbing the dust settled around the corners. He doesn’t know why he does it, when he’s been here a hundred, or maybe even a thousand times before.

Seungmin stops at Hyunjin’s door, hesitating to turn the knob. _Maybe he wouldn’t want me barging into his room. It’s not like it’s a dorm room that we agreed to share. This is his actual room._

“I still think we should rename the cat.” Jinyoung’s voice carries from the hallway.

“Don’t you like having one Hyunjin still around?”

“No. I’d rather have the one that doesn’t rip up my shoes… Well, he doesn’t do it on purpose, at least.”

“Oh, Jinyoung,” Mark’s laugh floats on the breeze through the small apartment.

Seungmin turns the knob, closing the door quickly behind him. He feels like a thief, with his heart hammering in his chest. Hyunjin’s room is exactly like it was the last time Seungmin was there, almost two years before. The same toys are collecting dust on the shelves, next to the detective books he and Hyunjin had pored through in the afternoons when they didn’t want to study.

Seungmin smiles. _Not studying was an option back then._

The same worn blue rug is spread on the floor, where Seungmin and Hyunjin would sit when it was too hot to sit on the bed. Sometimes Hyunjin would lay in Seungmin’s lap, reading a book until he dropped it on his face, fast asleep. Then Seungmin have to gently lift the book off Hyunjin’s face without waking him, which was much harder than it sounded.

“Hyunjin, hey Hyunjin, it’s me,” Seungmin calls out, rubbing his fingers together to call the cat out. When he doesn’t get so much as a rustle in response, he drops on all fours to check under the bed. “Hey, Hyunjin, come out.”

He knows he’s looking for a black cat at twilight, when everything’s shadows, but _surely_ she’s too big to lose at this point?

“Come on, Hyunjin,” Seungmin sighs, sitting down on the rug. “I’m tired and I’ve got to go soon.”

He listens, but all he can hear is the faint sizzle of something from the kitchen, and Mark and Jinyoung talking loudly, but not loud enough for Seungmin to know what they’re talking about.

“Hyunjin?” Seungmin sighs. “Fine. If you don’t wanna see me, it’s fine. What did I ever do to you?”

Seungmin gets off the floor, brushing the dust off the seat of his pants.

“I’m going now,” Seungmin says. He stands there, waiting for some sound in reply. “Bye?”

When he gets nothing, he sighs and goes out, closing the door gently behind him.

“Had enough of Hyunjin already?” Jinyoung asks, sliding himself and the pan in his hands out of the way when Mark tries to elbow him.

“She’s not there.” Seungmin says.

“Huh?” Mark frowns. “I just fed her earlier. Did you let her out into the garden, Jinyoung?”

“No.”

Seungmin stops on his way to the door. Then he turns and walks to the kitchen, Mark and Jinyoung frowning at him the entire time. He opens the cabinet filled with cat food, peering into the bin.

“Was it nearly empty when you fed her?”

Mark cranes his neck to look inside the cat food bin. “No.”

“Some of the wet food is missing, too.” Jinyoung says, lowering the pan onto the stove while he frowns into the cabinet, mentally counting the cans of cat food stacked on the lower shelf. “What the hell?”

Seungmin closes the bin and gets up with a deep sigh. Sometimes he wishes real life would have even an ounce of the excitement of a mystery novel.

“It looks like Hyunjin kidnapped Hyunjin.” He says.

“Catnapped, you mean.” Mark grins.

It’s not funny, but Jinyoung laughs anyway. _Good for them,_ Seungmin thinks. _Good for them._

“You sure you don’t wanna leave in the morning, Seungmin? It’s pretty late,” Youngjae asks, glancing across the console at Jimin who shakes her head aggressively. 

“Baby Park’s going to get them kicked out of the dorm, this is an emergency,” Jimin twists in her seat to look at Seungmin. “Is he picking up?”

“No. I’ll just go to him.” Seungmin says.

“That’s a pretty long trip,” Youngjae says. “Maybe you should just wait and see if he picks up-”

“He might be asleep. Or his phone probably ran out of battery.” Seungmin says.

“Typical Baby Park,” Jimin clicks her tongue.

“Do you have to be back in Seoul tomorrow?” Youngjae asks, his frown growing so deep that Seungmin’s worried it might be permanent.

“Yes. We have a lab meeting at 9.”

“Shit, Seungmin, how are you going to do that?” Jimin frowns.

“I don’t know.” Seungmin says, frowning at his phone while it informs him that Hyunjin’s phone can’t be contacted. For the twelfth time. “I really don’t know.”

“Jimin and I can go to Baby Pa- I mean, your friend Hyunjin, if we have to,” Youngjae offers. “You can take your train back to Seoul, Seungmin.”

“Yeah, we’ll take care of Baby Park!” Jimin snaps her fingers, as if she’d thought of it herself. “We both took a weeklong leave from work anyway.”

“Let’s just keep trying to call him,” Youngjae says, gently pulling the car into the train station’s parking lot. “Have you bought a ticket for the 7:45 train?”

Seungmin lowers his phone to his lap. They’re right, of course. And it makes perfect sense. He could probably just wait a little while, Hyunjin had probably fallen asleep on the train as he always did, and he’ll be easy enough to convince once he does wake up. Seungmin doesn’t have to go out of his way to meet Hyunjin at all, and neither do Jimin or her boyfriend, _no_ , fiancé.

Seungmin unlocks his phone, his ears growing warm at the _idea_ of wasting his entire night running after Hyunjin when a phone call would suffice.

It’s not an idea Seungmin would have. It’s not like him at all.

_And we all know what happens when I do things that aren’t like myself,_ Seungmin thinks with a shudder.

“You’re right, I’ll just go to Seoul and keep trying to call him.” Seungmin says.

“We’ll try to call him, too.” Jimin says. “And I’m sure Jinyoung’s seconds away from driving there himself.”

“Someone should probably stop _him_.” Youngjae says.

“I’m sure Mark’s on it,” Jimin says, patting him on the arm.

“Oh, right, Mark. Thank God for Mark.”

Seungmin collects his things and opens the car door.

Youngjae leans into the space above the console to see Seungmin off. “Try to catch that 7:45 so you can still take a bus back to your dorm.”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks for the lift.”

“Sure thing.” Youngjae says.

“Come on, Seungmin, he’s a couple months away from becoming your brother, no takebacks.” Jimin snorts. “He’s got to give you lifts for the rest of his life.”

“Whoopee.” Youngjae says with a little eyeroll. He winks at Seungmin. “Take care, Seungmin.”

“Text me when you get to the dorm!” Jimin calls out, rolling her window down. “No more meeting up with your cute boy, okay?”

Seungmin smiles. “Will do.”

Seungmin finds himself standing on the platform, staring at the ticketing app on his phone. Other stations might think twice about letting people onto the platform if they haven’t got a ticket yet – those other stations might have turnstiles and even staff to check on things. But this station has always been the black sheep of the entire line, ever since it was built. Seungmin knows why, it’s because his father’s company had been the contractors, and as always, they’d cut enough corners to make the project a perfect circle.

So that’s how Seungmin finds himself standing on the platform with ten minutes until the train arrives, still deciding whether to get a ticket or not.

It shouldn’t be a hard decision. Actually, it shouldn’t be a decision at all. All he has to do is buy the ticket to the 7:45 northbound train, as he’d told Jimin and Youngjae that he would.

_What’s the other option? There’s no other-_

As if in reply, the signboard above Seungmin lights up, informing the nonexistent other people on the platform that the next southbound train is expected to arrive at 8:00 PM. That train would take him to Busan in under two hours, so he’d be back in the university athlete’s dorm before 10 in the evening.

Seungmin can imagine it already. He’ll show up at the dorm, surprise Hyunjin for a moment before getting that silly little smile out of him, and then what? He would convince Hyunjin to let him take the cat back to Hyunjin’s brother, which Seungmin would spend the rest of the night doing. It’d be a miracle if Seungmin could even make it to that lab meeting the next morning, regardless of his mental state.

That opposed to just taking this 7:45 northbound train, making it in time probably to have a late dinner with Arin and Donghyuck, and read a bit to wind down, and manage to squeeze in almost six hours of sleep before the meeting.

Seungmin realizes he has five minutes left. _Will the app still let me buy the ticket?_

His finger hovers over the button. He doesn’t even try.

The 7:45 train arrives, dropping off a middle-aged man from one of the cars nearest Seungmin.

Seungmin gives him a polite nod, which the middle-aged man returns.

The train waits, as it always does, for a few minutes.

Seungmin feels a little bit guilty for wasting the entire train’s time. _Clearly, that man was the only passenger who had any business getting off here, and I, a complete fool, have no plans of-_

Then there’s a scuffing, scraping noise from one of the cars near the far end of the train, and a lean figure with a suspiciously heavy duffel bag comes running out just as the train doors close.

Seungmin stands there, frowning as the train speeds off to the next stop on the way to Seoul.

The figure cowers a little, holding onto his long black hair in a desperate effort to keep it in place while the wind from the train whips all around them.

Then he straightens up and sees Seungmin.

“Hyunjin?” Seungmin’s already started towards him.

“Seungmin? What are you doing here?”

Seungmin reaches over and unzips Hyunjin’s bag. Sure enough, Hyunjin the cat bounds out and into Seungmin’s waiting arms.

Hyunjin’s face glows pink under the dim platform lights. “How did you know I had her?”

“I figured it out.” Seungmin says. “Your brother didn’t call you?”

“Oh, no,” Hyunjin’s face grows a brighter red. “My phone ran out of battery. And I fell asleep.”

_Wow, two for two._ Seungmin strokes the top of Hyunjin’s head. The cat’s, of course. “I figured that out, too.”

“Of course you did.” Hyunjin says, reaching out to pet Hyunjin the cat as well. Then his face falls and he looks at Seungmin with such extreme shock that Seungmin doesn’t know whether to laugh or be concerned. “Wait! That was your train! Don’t you have to be back in Seoul by tomorrow? Oh my god!”

Hyunjin’s mouth hangs open as he watches the lights from the train vanish into a distant tunnel, one hand extended as if he planned to catch the train with it.

He’s chewing on his lip when he looks back at Seungmin. “I’m sorry I made you miss your train.”

“That wasn’t my train,” Seungmin says, scratching the cat behind her ears. “I didn’t buy the ticket.”

“Why not?”

“I was thinking… I was _not_ thinking, actually,” Seungmin says with a little chuckle. “I was going to buy the southbound one instead.”

“What?” Hyunjin makes a face, and it’s so cute Seungmin has to laugh. “Why?”

“I was going to go to you.”

Hyunjin’s face has now reached new heights of redness only previously achieved by crayons. “You were… what?”

“It was a stupid idea, I know,” Seungmin says. “But I was lonely.”

Hyunjin squares his shoulders a little. “Are the other interns not nice to you?”

“No, they’re great, I just…” Seungmin swallows, looking out past the platform at the lights blinking to life all over their city. “I just wanted to see you and I thought stopping you from bringing an illicit cat into the dorm and getting kicked out was a good enough reason.”

Hyunjin chews on his lip again. “I _did_ realize I would get kicked out if I brought her there. As soon as I woke up. I was only asleep for like five minutes,” Hyunjin adds defensively.

Seungmin lifts his eyebrows at Hyunjin, then at the clock on the wall that reads, _19:50_.

“Really, I did, it was like a moment of clarity, I felt like a genius for like 5 seconds.” Hyunjin sighs. “But you’d be surprised how hard it is to just _turn around_ , like it took me forever to get a new ticket and go to the other side of that station and it was _so_ scary-”

“Why were you trying to bring her to the dorm in the first place?”

“Because…” The corners of Hyunjin’s mouth lift into an eye-crinkling, self-conscious smile. “I was lonely.”

Seungmin looks down at the cat, avoiding Hyunjin-the-boy’s eyes. “Is Jisung not nice to you?”

“No, he’s really nice, and his parents, too, even if they’re very Jesus-y…”

“I think the politically-correct term is _Christian_ , Hyunjin.”

“Oh, right,” Hyunjin giggles. “You know what I mean.”

Seungmin breaks into a grin. Then he opens his mouth to say something, not realizing that Hyunjin was, too.

“We’re not dating, by the way.” They both say at once.

“Minho and I,” Seungmin clarifies.

“Me and Jisung,” Hyunjin adds.

They both look down at their feet.

“I was just doing that because I thought it would make Bomi stop talking to me,” Hyunjin admits.

“It would’ve,” Seungmin says. “On any other person, maybe.”

Hyunjin sighs. Then he looks up at Seungmin. “Then why were you…?”

Seungmin’s face takes a turn at getting very warm, all the way to his ears. “It’s very stupid.”

“Seungmin, you are talking to _me._ ”

“You’re not stupid, Hyunjin, you’re just… always… unlucky.”

Hyunjin laughs. “Yeah, I am.”

“No, I don’t mean it like-”

“There is somebody who likes me,” Hyunjin says, gently taking the cat out of Seungmin’s arms while the latter frowns at him. “And they’re a great person, they’re more than okay, really, but I don’t like them back.”

Seungmin’s frown grows deeper. “Hyunjin-”

“Instead, I like somebody who is my friend, and he’s a great friend, and I should be happy with just being friends, I mean, I was before,” Hyunjin says, holding onto the cat so tightly she’s starting to give him annoyed looks. “But I’m not anymore. I don’t know why.”

“You’re choking her.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Hyunjin presses a kiss to the top of the cat’s head before handing her back to Seungmin.

Seungmin holds the cat close to his chest, burying his chin in her fur. “You’re very unlucky to have a friend that is so stupid-”

“It’s you, Seungmin, I’m talking about _you_.”

Seungmin kisses the cat on the top of her head before smiling up at Hyunjin. “I knew that.”

“Oh. Of course you did.” Hyunjin says, burying his face in one hand while an embarrassed smile spreads across his lips.

“I’ll just be upfront about it. I was pretending to date Minho so that you would be jealous. It wasn’t my idea, of course, but the longer I spent away from you the better it sounded in my head.” Seungmin sighs.

“You make it sound like months.” Hyunjin frowns. “You were making out with Minho after _one week_ , Seungmin.”

“Okay, maybe I wanted someone to kiss me, and Lee Minho’s not a bad choice, is that so wrong?”

“You don’t even like when people _touch_ you, Seungmin, why do you suddenly-”

“Why do _you_ suddenly want to be more than friends with me? After all these years of you dating literally _everyone else_ but me?”

“That’s not fair!”

“Sorry, but am I wrong? You even messed around with Seo Changbin, what was I supposed to think-”

“What was _I_ supposed to think?” Hyunjin puffs his very pink cheeks up in exasperation. “You made it clear that you didn’t like me like that! And I respected that! Because I love you, no matter what the fuck you want!”

The 8:00 train rolls into the station, loudly enough that they’re both forced to bite down on whatever they had planned to say. No one goes in or out of the train, so it leaves – just as noisily as it came – after just a minute or so.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this in the middle of the platform.” Seungmin mutters.

Hyunjin takes a shuddering breath. “Don’t you have to get back to Seoul for… whatever?”

“Oh, Hyunjin, don’t cry,” Seungmin says, reaching out with one hand, but he stops it inches from Hyunjin’s face. “Can I?”

“You don’t have to ask.” Hyunjin mumbles, leaning into Seungmin’s touch when the latter brushes a tear from his cheek. He straightens up suddenly, looking left and right awkwardly. “You’re right, we should probably leave the station.”

“And Hyunjin’s probably hungry.”

“I _am_.” Hyunjin pouts. “So hungry.”

“I meant the cat,” Seungmin grins.

“I know.” Hyunjin says. “But I’m hungry too.”

“Jimin’s going to throw a fit if she finds out he’s here.” Jinyoung says, in a voice that he probably thinks is soft enough, though both the boys can hear him loud and clear.

“Then just don’t tell her, and she won’t find out, relax.” Mark knocks briefly on the door to Hyunjin’s room. “Good night, guys.”

Seungmin opens the door. “Goodnight, Mr. Tuan.”

Mark laughs. “You don’t have to call me that anymore-”

“Night, Mark-hyung!” Hyunjin yells from inside the room.

“Okay, but don’t call me _that_.” Mark says with a grim expression.

“Good night,” Seungmin says, smiling as he closes the door. He turns to find Hyunjin unrolling a blanket onto the floor and dumping a pillow on it like the cherry on top. “What are you doing?”

“Huh?” Hyunjin lifts both eyebrows. “Oh, you can have the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“We can fit on the bed. It’s a double.”

“Oh.” Hyunjin twists the edge of one lock of hair, glancing from the floor to the bed anxiously.

“Or we can _not_ share the bed, if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay, I mean, I took a shower, I’m not smelly,” Hyunjin laughs nervously. “But I thought you wouldn’t want to be squished with, you know, another person…”

“I don’t mind it.” Seungmin says, taking his glasses off to lay them on the bedside table.

“You used to.”

“Yeah, I used to.” Seungmin climbs onto the bed, crawling to the far end against the wall.

Hyunjin sits at the very edge of the bed. “When did that change?”

“I don’t know.” Seungmin tucks his feet under the covers. “I didn’t notice.”

“Me neither.” Hyunjin keeps twisting the edge of that one lock of hair. He laughs again. “How could I miss something like that?”

“You don’t really notice changes in things you see every day.” Seungmin says, giving his toes a thoughtful wiggle.

Hyunjin turns around, grinning at Seungmin. “You’re not a _thing_!”

“I didn’t say I was!” Seungmin snickers. He extends one foot to poke Hyunjin in the side. “Turn off the lights so we can sleep, silly.”

“Okay,” Hyunjin says, reaching to flick the switch on the wall. He lays on top of the blanket, facing away from Seungmin. “Good night.”

Seungmin lays with his back against the wall, watching the outline of Hyunjin’s shoulders become clearer as his eyes adjust to the dark. He seems a little bonier than Seungmin remembers. _It’s only been a month and a bit, don’t be dramatic._

Seungmin rolls his eyes at himself. _You’ve been so dramatic lately._

_Maybe it’s contagious._

“Oh, uh, Seungmin?”

Seungmin closes his eyes, pretending to be half-asleep. “Uh-huh?”

“I just wanted to say, um,” Hyunjin starts slowly, like he’s playing hopscotch around his words. There’s a rustle as he turns to peek at Seungmin, who keeps his eyes shut. “Maybe I’ll just say it tomorrow-”

“Just say it.”

“Oh, it’s nothing super big, I just decided I’m not going to date anyone else anymore,” Hyunjin mumbles. “Unless it’s you.”

Seungmin’s spit gets caught in his throat. He turns to the wall, coughing.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin asks, rubbing Seungmin’s back. He picks up the edge of the blanket. “Is it cold-”

“It-” Seungmin takes a deep breath. “It’s the middle of summer, Hyunjin.”

“Right.” Hyunjin laughs, squeezing Seungmin’s arm. “You’re okay, though?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Hyunjin grins, his teeth the brightest thing in the room for a split second, before settling at the very edge of the bed again, facing away from Seungmin.

Seungmin peeks one eye open. The space Hyunjin’s placed between them is just a little narrower than the one in their dorm room. He reaches out, his hand stopping just an inch away from touching Hyunjin’s back. _No, it’s much closer than the space between our beds in the dorm._

Seungmin curls his fingers back.

“Hyunjin?”

“Mm-hm?”

“Do you remember after the championship last year?”

“We had one pizza each and split a whole fried chicken.” Hyunjin sounds like he’s smiling. “Yeah.”

Seungmin flexes his fingers, flicking Hyunjin on the back.

“Oww,” Hyunjin turns around, facing Seungmin with a pout. “What was that for?”

“I wasn’t talking about that.” Seungmin tries to scowl. _Why do Hyunjin’s lips always look so wet? He’s like a fish._

Seungmin’s staring at Hyunjin’s lips for long enough that he forgets to speak again.

“Oh, the party that night?” Hyunjin stretches, resting his head on one arm. “We didn’t go, though, right?”

“We just stole a bottle of tequila-”

“You said it wasn’t stealing!” Hyunjin grins, catching Seungmin by the hands.

“Of course it was stealing! Why did you believe me!” Seungmin laughs, trying to squirm out of Hyunjin’s grip.

“You know I always believe you!”

“You shouldn’t!”

“When have you ever lied to me?” Hyunjin asks, holding Seungmin’s wrists together with one hand while he pokes Seungmin in the side with the other. “Aside from that time.”

“Loads of times!” Seungmin giggles, using his feet to try to keep Hyunjin’s hand from tickling him. “I have lied to you a _lot_!”

“Really? Like when?” Hyunjin asks, wrapping his legs around Seungmin’s in a sloppy sort of wrestling move while he tickles Seungmin with his free hand.

“Like when you asked me if I remembered that I kissed you and I said I didn’t.”

Hyunjin’s hand stops tickling Seungmin. “What?”

“You asked me,” Seungmin says, painfully aware of the tiny, tiny space they’ve left between their faces. “The next morning you asked me if I remembered anything. I said I didn’t. I just didn’t want to say-”

“Oh, I knew you were lying about _that_.” Hyunjin says, his mouth turned up in a sad half-smile. “I thought you were just embarrassed about it.”

“I was.” Seungmin bites his lip when he sees Hyunjin’s entire face fall. “No, not because I kissed you, but because I…” Seungmin swallows. He feels like a toothpaste tube being squeezed for every last drop. It’s excruciating. “I didn’t mean to kiss you- I mean, I didn’t want-”

“Maybe we should just go back to pretending it didn’t happen.” Hyunjin says, gently dropping Seungmin’s wrists and releasing his legs.

“No, that’s not right, it did happen, there’s no point pretending it didn’t,” Seungmin sighs. “I just didn’t want our first kiss to be because I was drunk and I didn’t even ask you if you wanted it and that’s not like me at all and I’m really sorry about it.”

“Oh.”

“I wanted- I wanted to start things with you the right way, and that wasn’t- I’m sorry,” Seungmin stammers out, frowning at himself. “I’m sorry you thought I was embarrassed by you, it wasn’t you, I was embarrassed of myself-”

“Well, we can always try again.” Hyunjin shrugs.

Seungmin stares at him. “You can’t have a second first kiss, Hyunjin. That’s not how it works.”

“Who said so?” Hyunjin asks. He tucks the hair that had fallen over his face in their tussle behind one ear. “Do you want to have another first kiss?”

“It’s called _first_ kiss for a reason.” Seungmin insists.

“Do you want to?” Hyunjin asks again, unfazed.

Seungmin sighs. The air between them has grown warm and muggy, and the wind blowing in through the window is an unpleasant sort of lukewarm that draws the sweat out of your skin. It’s precisely the worst sort of weather to be lying less than a foot away from another person, much less kissing that other person.

Seungmin nods. “Yes.”

“Okay, here goes,” Hyunjin says, cradling Seungmin’s chin in one hand while he presses his lips softly to Seungmin’s. It doesn’t feel like anything, really, nothing different from when Hyunjin rests his hand on Seungmin’s arm or taps him on the hand, but Seungmin’s chest is filled with a weird kind of lightness, like a helium balloon floating off to the clouds.

_Those balloons pop before they even hit the clouds,_ a voice in Seungmin’s head reminds him.

Seungmin ignores the voice. He forgets how sticky his back is getting and leans forward, letting his mouth fall open as Hyunjin goes in for a second kiss (third kiss, technically, not that anyone but Seungmin is counting). He rakes his fingers through Hyunjin’s hair, catching his thumbs on Hyunjin’s goofy ears to caress them as he goes in for a third or fourth kiss.

Seungmin’s shirt is clinging to his body by the fifth or sixth kiss, as he opens his mouth to let Hyunjin’s tongue in for a sixth or seventh kiss, tasting the berry-flavored mouthwash Hyunjin insists on using, despite it having a huge “FOR KIDS” on the label. Seungmin’s lips are throbbing by the tenth or eleventh kiss, but he smiles into it just the same.

“I love you,” Hyunjin says, gazing into Seungmin’s eyes.

Seungmin’s eyes can hardly see anything this dark and up close, but he figures he must be looking back into Hyunjin’s. “You know you say that in your sleep?”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen. “What?”

“You say that in your sleep,” Seungmin grins. “ _I love you_. Almost every night.”

“Well, I meant it.” Hyunjin huffs. “For you, at least.”

Seungmin kisses him gently. “I love you, too.”


End file.
